Sandra giggled and put a gloved hand on his arm. "Come on, I heard they brought chocolate."
They caught up with Tom just as the air lock finished opening. They entered and felt the air buffet them as it filled the chamber. They took off their helmets and the inner door opened. A short man with short graying hair smiled. "Welcome to the Prometheus, Tom. I see you brought the kids."
Tom clasped the man on the back. "Good to see you Jerry. Just wish you jettisoned some of your cargo on the way here."
The marine who had been standing silently at attention near the air lock controls up till now lost his composure. Alvin coughed to cover a laugh as the man's eyes went wide and jaw dropped. Years of training quickly took over and the man went back to being a statue.
Jerry looked at Alvin and followed his eyes to the marine. "You and me, both. You want to stay here and I take the Atlas back next month?"
"Not a chance," Tom told him. "Now I believe you wanted to give me a tour of your ship."
There wasn't much of interest to Alvin, but the ship's original purpose as an asteroid miner intrigued Sandra. Alvin had to admit that it was pretty cool that humans were now mining heavenly bodies, but the details were lost on him.
Mid-tour, they met the ambassador to Titan. Alvin expected somebody pompous and self-important. After all, the woman called herself an ambassador to a civilization they hadn't even met yet.
Cynthia Clinton was none of that however. She won over Sandra first. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sandra." She shook the younger woman's hand. "I'll admit that of the four of you, you were the one I wanted to meet the most."
"Me?" Sandra half asked, half shrieked. She didn't let go of the ambassador's hand. Cynthia brought her left hand up to hold Sandra's. Sandra caught the glint of metal on her hand. "You went to U Penn, too?"
Cynthia laughed. "Imagine my surprise then I was reading your dossiers and discovered that I was flying six times the distance of the Earth to the sun to meet someone that lived in the same dorm as me."
"Cynthia, why don't you Jerry come over to the Atlas? I'm sure you would like to meet our guest of honor," Tom said.
"That's a delightful idea," Cynthia said. "Give me a chance to practice my Titan. I studied the entire flight out here." She smiled.
They made their way over to the storage locker for the spacesuits. Alvin noted that Cynthia and Jerry both had the older style suits. Apparently, they weren't special enough for the Marines groundsuits. Either that or they were experimental and there were a hundred Marines outside right now acting like test dummies.
Major Johns told them on their trek across what Alvin was quickly beginning to think of as a parade field. He approached them. "Ambassador, I must insist that you stay in the ship until the habitat is completed."
"We are just heading over to the Atlas to meet their alien," Cynthia said.
"Well in that case I should join you. I need to evaluate the security threat." Johns swiveled his head. The motion was possible in his suit. "Franklin. Jacobs, fall in." Two Marines working on the habitat put down what they were holding and skipped over to them
"Major, I assure you that's not necessary. He is a refugee." Tom said.
"I will be the judge of that, Captain," Johns said.
"Fine, suit yourself. If you want to waste your time creating work for yourself instead of doing the work you actually have, go right ahead. Be warned, our air lock will only fit four. I'm not making my crew or the ambassador wait just so you can go in first." Tom seemed to work out the math in his head and saw that even without the Marines they wouldn't all fit in the air lock at once.
"I'll stay behind," Sandra said. She turned her body to face Jerry. "Captain, with your permission, I would like to spend more time touring your ship. I'm really intrigued by its original application."
"Go right ahead." Jerry pointed back to the Prometheus. "Ask for Simmons. He's one of the Marines but seems like an okay guy and has a background in geotechnical."
"Thank you, sir." She nodded. Sandra gave Alvin a smile through her face plate and touched his hand.
"Go have fun and I'm proud of you. You're really breaking out of your shell," Alvin said. He made a shooing motion. "Now go."
"Love you." She skipped off. Sandra chuckled softly. She was literally skipping. Granted, it really was just about the best way to get around on this gravity.
Tom and Alvin got in the air lock with Jerry and the ambassador. They cycled through and Tom said, "I'd say leave them there, but I don't want them wandering around my ship unattended."
Jerry nodded and Cynthia murmured her ascent. Tom turned to Alvin. "Go find Lana and let her know we are here. That way we don't surprise her and, goodness knows, I don't want to get any more on her bad side."
Alvin left without saying a word. He found her in the galley drinking a cup of coffee. "We've got company. The ambassador and the captain from the other ship are here. That jerk major and two of his grunts are with them. You will like Cynthia, she's not at all like what we expected. The other three are even worse than we expected."
Lana laughed. "It will be good to see Jerry. I haven't seen him in a few years. I suppose they're here to see Donoon?"
Alvin nodded and she collected her tablet and her mug. "Well, I guess we shouldn't keep them waiting."
They met up with the others in the hallway leading to their guest's room, discovering the door open. He wasn't a prisoner but NASA and the crew hadn't felt letting a blind man have free reign over the ship was the best idea either. The door was kept closed if not locked and he generally kept to himself.
Alvin poked his head in. He turned back to the others and said, "Umm, he's not here."
"What do you mean he's not here? You let the prisoner escape?" Johns shouted.
"He wasn't a prisoner," Tom interjected.
"Why wasn't he in a secured location?" Johns asked. He turned to Franklin and Jacobs. "I want this place on lock down. Seal all the hatches. No one is to pass without my orders. Search every inch of this ship."
"Belay that order. Stand down." Tom blocked their exit. "Donoon wasn't a prisoner, he was a refugee and a guest."
"This is a war zone. I am in charge of this mission now. We need to find him. He could have intelligence that we need." Johns shoved at Tom.
Tom stared at him and grew silent. Then in a voice scarce louder than a whisper, he said, "This ship is not part of your mission. I am in charge here. Get off my ship. My crew will search for the alien but you will not be a part of it."
Johns looked like he might say something. Alvin stood by Tom and tried to look intimidating.
Jerry took a step and stood on Tom's other side. "You better learn to respect a ship's captain when you are on his ship. Otherwise, you're going to need your own transportation back home."
Cynthia put her hands between the two sides. "Major, maybe it is time to get back to the habitat installation.
Johns glared at them but could see that he was outnumbered. Without breaking eye contact with Tom, Johns said to his entourage, "Get back to work." He held his stare a little longer and turned around, following the other two back to the air lock. After a few steps, he turned his head and shouted over his shoulder. "I'll remember this when aliens are attacking and you need help."
Tom looked at his crew. "Okay, let's split up and search every nook and cranny."
"Why don't you check the security footage, Tom," Alvin said quietly. "We will get started on the search, but if he's gone, we are just wasting his time."
"That's a good idea. I'll do that. Jerry, Cynthia, I'm sure you have other things you need to get done."
Jerry nodded.
"Most of our food is freeze-dried rations, but we do have actual food for special occasions. I think landing is a special enough occasion, and we need to repair relations or this whole thing will go south quickly," Cynthia said. "Please be our guests at the new habitat at six."
"Well, I won't turn down free grub, but don't expect me to get along with
that man," Tom answered.
"Well, it's a start," she said. "Good luck with your search and please keep me updated." With that, she and Jerry left.
Alvin gave a cursory search of the areas that a blind man might stumble into, not that he thought that actually happened. He was checking the med bay when Tom called over the intercom, "Abandon your search. Footage shows him leaving while we were on the Prometheus. He seemed to know where he was going."
Alvin leaned over and flipped a switch on a bulkhead. He pulled the intercom mic from its holster. "Ten-four. I hate to say I told you so, but..."
"Shut it," Tom interrupted.
"Yes sir." Alvin snorted. "I'm going to go check on Sandra."
Alvin left the ship and walked to the Prometheus. Something in the sky caught his eye. At first, he dismissed it as a bird. He stopped. There were no birds on Titan. If Sam was to be believed, not that Alvin particularly did, Sam's people were the only remaining animal species on the moon.
Alvin craned his neck, a difficult proposition in the bulky suit. The thing swooped and he saw it for what it was. An enterprising marine had fashioned wings out of parachute cloth and leftover tubing from the habitat assembly. Alvin mentally smacked himself. Why hadn't they thought of that? Titan's thick atmosphere and low gravity made human-powered flight, a dream of humanity for millennia, even after the invention of flying machines with engines. With wings like that, they could have conducted their tunnel search in half the time.
Alvin watched the man circle the habitat a few times and then dove in for a landing. The birdman tumbled to a stop a few feet from Alvin. Okay, maybe the wings weren't the greatest idea after all.
"Whew. That was a rush," he said as Alvin reached out a hand to help him up.
"You okay..." Alvin looked at the name tag. "Clarke? Is your suit ripped?"
"Nah, that was awesome," Clarke replied, dusting himself off. "You want a go?"
The thought turned Alvin a little green. His suit wouldn't handle that crash as well as Clarke's did. "Err, no. I'm okay. I was just going to meet up with my fiancée. She's expecting me," he lied.
"Your loss, dude. It was a total rush," Clarke repeated himself. "Hey, Simmons. It's your turn on the wings. They're awesome." There was a pause. "Simmons?"
"No, I'm cool. I'm too busy chatting up this hottie from the Atlas. See if Jacobs wants a turn." Simmons's voice crackled over the radio, noise from construction filling the background.
"That's my fiancée, you're talking about," Alvin shouted. He took off for the Prometheus habitat.
"Sounds like your girl isn't expecting you after all. Sure you don't want a turn?" Clarke laughed.
The Hab interior was already pressurized and Alvin waited for the air lock to cycle. He yanked off his helmet as soon as he could and searched for Sandra and this Simmons.
Alvin spotted them in the main space that would serve as a cafeteria and reception hall. Simmons was tall, even taller than Alvin's five foot nine frame. Muscles rippled under his dark skin. As much time as this guy had to spend working out to maintain those muscles, especially in the low, Titan gravity, Alvin was surprised he had enough time to do anything productive, like steal girlfriends.
Sandra laughed at something and Simmons put his hand on her shoulder. Alvin saw red. It didn't matter that Simmons was twice his size and could probably take him with one arm tied behind his back. Alvin charged.
"You stay away from my fiancée," he roared. He swung a punch but Simmons blocked it. Alvin tried a left uppercut to the kidney, and Simmons lowered his arms to block.
Just the opening he was looking for. At least there was one thing he knew he was better at then Simmons. Sandra's brothers had put Alvin through his paces in the ring. Alvin landed a right hook to his nose.
Simmons's head turned from the force of the swing and blood flowed down onto his shirt. He brought his shirt up to blot the blood. "What the hell, man?" He lunged at Alvin.
They were no longer boxing. This was pure scrapping and Simmons had him beat by a long shot. He kept his head protected as best he could, but the knee to his ribs knocked the wind out of him and he fell.
"The alien captive has escaped." Johns's voice called through the intercom and echoed about the metal structures. "We are on alert level two. Everyone not on habitat construction, report to Prometheus for briefing on the search."
Simmons hesitated and another Marine pulled him up. Alvin struggled to his feet. "You just leave her alone and we'll be alright," he wheezed.
"We ain't never going to be alright after you sucker punched me like that. I ever catch you alone on Earth and you a dead man." Simmons left for the medical station.
Alvin turned to look at Sandra. She stood in the same spot as when Alvin first saw her. She saw him watching her. His wide eyes squinted and her open mouth tightened into a thin line. "What was that about? I can't talk shop with the only person knowledgeable in my field for a billion miles?"
"He was flirting with you," he yelled.
Her features hardened further. "And you don't trust me to reject him?" She stepped between two of the marines holding Alvin back. They parted to let her in but didn't seem to be in any hurry to miss the show.
"I didn't trust him," he pleaded.
"No, you didn't trust me," she told him. She got inches from his face. "Get one thing straight. I. Am. Not. Your property. I am my own woman and can talk to whomever I please."
Alvin looked down. She pushed his head back up to meet her eyes. "I hear Donoon is gone. Good, you can take his room tonight." She turned and walked away.
Alvin watched her go. Why couldn't she realize he had done it to protect her? The other marines let him go. Apparently, the show was over. Alvin wondered where he should go now.
Clarke came up to him. He had taken off his ground suit and was wearing fatigue pants printed in the muted oranges of the moon and an olive drab t-shirt. "Dude, you attacked Simmons? Not cool. Dude's a big softy. Tough on the outside, soft and gooey on the inside. Wouldn't hurt a fly unless provoked."
"Why is everyone acting like I'm the bad guy? He's the one that was hitting on my fiancée," Alvin complained.
"Not cool, dude. Not cool. Anyway, your Captain wants you back to the Atlas. Just be glad you aren't one of us. NASA ain't going to do shit compared to what our punishment would have been."
Tom was waiting for Alvin when he took off his helmet inside the Atlas. "What were you thinking? Were you even thinking? That's got to be the dumbest thing I've ever heard."
Alvin held up a hand. "I know, I know. It was a stupid thing to do. But I couldn't help myself."
Tom shook his head. "There's got to be something about this moon, driving us all crazy. Me and Lana off fighting all the time. Now you getting into fights. Over what? You got to know that Sandra would never cheat on you."
"It must be all the stress. This mission hasn't exactly gone as planned," Alvin said.
"There is that. Now Alvin, what am I going to do with you? As much as I love the fact that you bloodied one of those grunts and wish I had been there to see it, this isn't something that Johns is going to let stand if he doesn't see you getting punished."
Alvin took off the rest of his suit and hung it up. "What are you going to do to me? Lashings in the parade field?"
Tom chuckled. Then he frowned. "Dang it, Alvin. This isn't a joke. I'm going to have to see what Houston says, but for now, I'm going to have to make you stay here during the dinner. You will man the communications room and wait for NASA to make their determination on your punishment."
Alvin sighed. For once, he didn't feel like joking. "That's fine by me. I don't think I'm welcome over there anyway."
Tom put a hand on Alvin's shoulder. "I'm sure this is going to all blow over. It better. It'll be a long month until we leave, otherwise."
"I'm going to go take a shower. I have to wash the blood off my hand," Alvin said.
When Alvin finished his shower, Tom was already gone. There is no point for him and L
ana to be staying in the ship anymore, so he's probably packed up and gone already at the habitat. Sandra would be with them. He wasn't sure that she would want to go to the dinner either.
Or maybe she would. She would go talk to Simmons some more. Maybe dance with him. Alvin frowned. He'd tried to protect her but only wound up pushing her away.
He dressed in a fresh jumpsuit and went to the galley to make a pot of coffee. This was going to be a long and boring night. Communication with Earth was like the days of email back when you still had to go to a computer to check it. You'd send a message and then just have to wait for a reply. Every other person in the solar system was going to be at that party.
He poured a cup of coffee and picked up his tablet. The chair in the communications room was fairly comfortable and the head a lot of reading to do.
Alvin found that he had missed the solitude of being completely alone. There were no distractions to keep him from finishing the papers he had been asked to review. Exobiology was finally becoming a discipline that people were taking seriously.
He finished his coffee and stood to get a refill. He stretched his back, stiff from being in one position too long. Wait? Did something just move on one of the monitors?
He bent over the desk and stared at the screen showing the area between the Atlas and the Prometheus. There it was again. Something moved. Alvin increased the gain on the camera. The image became grainy but Alvin could make out a human shape.
No, not human. It was Sam. He was back and wearing some kind of respirator and clothing to keep out the cold. Alvin had never seen equipment like Sam possessed. Definitely not Earth technology.
Sam took aim with an odd-looking rifle and the screen turned to static. So much for blind.
Alvin's hands flew over the controls of the remaining cameras. Snow filled the screen for each view. He smacked his forehead. Sam hadn't been a refugee from his people. He'd been a spy performing reconnaissance.
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