Fable Hill

by Christopher Uremovich

  “Relay satellite number one has been loaded and is ready to fire, sir.”

  “Lets rock, Frank, launch that bad boy already!” Roland said as he rubbed his hands together and got fired up.

  “Um . . . I’m getting an error message, Captain,” Frank said ominously. He attempted to type the launch codes in again but another error message hindered his progress. Frank spun around in his seat and looked towards Alexei for help.

  “Alexei!” Roland yelled.

  Alexei had been asleep in his chair, slumped over and snoring loudly. Keiko, the nearest astronaut, wound up and kicked him in the shin.

  “I’m up, I’m up! What?” he inquired, peering around the room, waking in the process.

  “Alexei . . .” Roland said softly, like a father disciplining his child for spilled milk. “Alexei, we cannot launch the relay satellite because of an error message with the coil gun.”

  “It’s fine, I reprogrammed everything. It will show a, um . . . it will show an error but there is no error, I promise.”

  “That’s good enough for me,” Frank proceeded.

  “Frank, stop!” Roland scolded. “What does the error message say?”

  Frank read the message out loud, but most of the verbiage was incomprehensible, except for the last line of code: //magnetic failure//

  “It’s not that big of a deal. I know that it looks bad, but I swear I personally fixed every line of corrupt code myself!” Alexei proclaimed.

  “Do you swear on all our lives?” Roland said with utter seriousness.

  The pressure started to creep in the back of his mind now. Alexei ran through all the code in his head; maybe he had made a mistake or forgotten something. Sarai will fail-safe the system if there’s a problem, he thought at last. “Yes, I swear.”

  Receiving a reassuring nod from the team lead, Frank engaged the launch code once more, prompting the error message to disappear.

  With deadly precision, the relay satellite blew furiously from the chamber of the coil gun, exiting the ship’s hangar at hypersonic speed. The Yamada’s bridge aired the successful launch on the main television screen. The crew breathed a sigh of relief.

  “How does the relay system work?” Keiko asked. “I get the concept, helps us get an internet connection and everything, but the Yamada gets internet already so why not connect from the ship?”

  The relay satellite twinkled in the darkness of space as Frank cycled the closed circuit cameras to try and get a better view. He zoomed in on the craft as it was consumed by space and no longer visible.

  “A better question is how does it stop itself to even receive optical communication?” Frank jumped in.

  Alexei scooted closer to Keiko to explain the science behind the internet, while Roland and Frank discussed the next acceleration maneuver. “On Earth, the majority of wireless connections are done with radio waves. It is still the easiest and cheapest way of doing things, you see.”

  “She understands wireless internet, Alexei. Don’t insult her intelligence,” Mia snapped.

  “Well then, it’s very simple. Those relay satellites collect light signals from Earth. The electronic signals are amplified and passed to the next satellite until they reach our base on Mars.”

  Frank motioned everyone into position as Sarai began her usual acceleration countdown, electromagnetic noise filling the bridge.

  “What about the Yamada? How do we get our connection?” Keiko asked.

  “The exact same way, by laser communications,” Alexei replied.

  “The ship isn’t redirecting power, sir,” Frank interrupted the three different conversations. The ship’s bridge maintained normal luminescence. Roland looked back towards Alexei for assistance.

  “Full of problems today, aren’t we?” Alexei undid his restraints. “Be right back.”

  Error messages filled Frank’s computer, causing the system to crash and go dark. He attempted to reboot, but to no avail. Everything had seized up and it was up to Alexei now to fix it.

  Alexei hurried through the main corridor, skipping to every other handle bar, catapulting himself as fast as possible. Engine noise grew as he got closer to the reactor. “Oh, why did they make the ship so frickin’ huge?” he groaned.

  A single seatlift lay vacant across from the supply module. It hugged one of many gangways on the ship. Alexei strapped himself in and kicked loose the parking brake. The lift proved to be much faster than he had previously envisioned. It moved through the ship at a click, its linear motor powering an electric guideway.

  Back on the bridge, Frank’s flight computer rebooted on its own, finally giving him control again. Power siphoning returned the ship to its familiar darkness with red emergency lighting.

  Aluminum and plastic paneling shook under the immense pressure from the reactor releasing its fission heat. Alexei returned to his seat just in the nick of time as gravity restrained the crew.

  “What . . . was . . . the problem?” Roland asked as increased gravity broke his voice into bits and pieces.

  Alexei sat silently, waiting for the onslaught to be over with. The ship accelerated for approximately sixty seconds, increasing in speed to a maximum of 316,800 kilometers per hour.

  Lights returned to normal and the incessant noise scattered into nothing again. Alexei moved uncomfortably in his chair as Roland awaited his response to the question.

  “Nothing was wrong. Like I said before, I fixed everything. Frank must have disobeyed procedures,” Alexei said with a disgruntled tone.

  Frank recoiled with intense indignation at the comment. He hurried towards Alexei but was stopped by Mia of all people.

  “Stop!” shouted Roland with authority.

  Alexei stared down Frank with obvious discontent, the situation becoming more awkward.

  “Frank, your mistake cost us time and effort. Don’t let it happen again,” Roland said to Frank’s surprise.

  These people never would have survived in a deployed environment, Frank thought as he clenched his fist.

  •••

  The crew of the Yamada had reached a milestone in their journey. They had successfully traveled over 180 million kilometers. The scheduled travel time of sixty days was surpassed, and they would reach Mars in one week, barring no more technical issues.

  Since retiring from the military, Frank had grown accustomed to his new life on the road. His beard was thick and black. Hair hung down his neck line.

  Keiko trimmed him up for the first time. Hairs fell to the floor with each pass of the scissors. A steady hum of the razor, shaved stubble, and loose ends. She had never cut a man’s hair before, so it took time. Frank made sure they had the best view on the ship with Mars on the viewscreen. It was now clearly visible, its butter bourbon color contrasting against the vast emptiness.

  “Space is depressing, isn’t it?” Frank whispered.

  “Yeah, it’s hard to keep my spirits up,” she replied. Another snip of the scissors and a thick lock of hair fell through a hole in the floor. “I regret coming, knowing I might not feel the wind or the sun on my skin again.”

  “Honestly, I feel like we are experiencing a preview of Hell, our own little Purgatory before we die,” Frank replied. “And we haven’t even landed on the bloody planet yet!”

  “You’re beginning to sound like Renee. The dreary Brit is rubbing off on us.” They shared a laugh before getting lost in their own thoughts.

  The first signs of fatigue for the crew became an aversion to social communication. Awkward exchanges and stuttered sentences became common. It was not unusual for one to blurt out repressed feelings or wear emotions on the sleeve.

  •••

  Hangar bay doors opened, depressurizing the inside holding area. A dolly and conveyor belt system loaded a one ton satellite into the chamber of the ship’s coil gun. Sarai oversaw the final details, rerouting her sub-routines to handle the process, whilst defragging the many errors the ship was encountering lately.

  By the time she had f
inished her task, three satellites and one weather probe lay inside the gun’s chamber and magazine, ready to fire. The coil gun recoiled into the hangar bay as Sarai reconfigured its firing mechanism.

  Mia ran briskly up the habitat’s double flight of stairs. She stopped occasionally to do crunches and push-ups. Out of all the crew members, she had not changed her appearance or attitude much. Her mind and body continued to exhibit strength.

  Frank did pull-ups on a makeshift bar wedged between pillars on the ground floor. He had given up on trying to find a connection with Mia, he just assumed she hated him.

  Just as Frank finished his final set, he caught a glimpse of Mia losing her footing at the very top step. She crashed down the stairs head first, cracking her forehead on the edge of a sharp corner. Blood gushed from her wound, water from her canteen falling down her breast and hitting her shorts and running shoes.

  Frank attempted to help and cradled the injured Mia, who instinctively swung a wide haymaker, accidentally hitting a titanium leg. “Fuck me!” she yelped in pain, coddling her throbbing hand.

  “Fine. You don’t want my help, you don’t want anyone’s help.” Frank stormed off back down the steps.

  “Wait!” Mia replied sheepishly. “Wait.”

  Frank turned back around and thought she looked pitiful, blood still pouring out her slashed forehead. Her bruised hand applied pressure but to little avail. He couldn’t help but feel a smidgen of sympathy.

  “I’m sorry, Frank, I really am,” she said, languishing in pain.

  The veteran pilot knelt down beside her and clutched her hand in his, grasping her shoulder. Frank tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to mind.

  Renee rushed inside the hab from her bedroom to aid Mia. She wrapped an Israeli bandage over the deep cut. “I need to clean this and seal it right away,” she said, helping Mia back to the medical station. Mia looked back at Frank and gave him a brief smile.

  •••

  Morning came swiftly to the sound of more relay satellites being launched into space. Keiko especially enjoyed the sound the gun made as it recoiled. It was like a synthesizer producing a glitchy bass note that reverberated through the ship. She wasn’t entirely sure if that was the gun’s true sound or from the unique air makeup and pressure inside the ship.

  Roland and Alexei observed from the bridge as several probes achieved their own propulsion from the hangar bay, some the size of an ATV.

  The Yamada began its scheduled deceleration phase. Inverted duel ion hydrazine thrusters pulsed every ten minutes with six- to nine-second controlled bursts. The crew was now in the final stretch of their journey.

  After breakfast, Sarai announced a meeting in the conference room. The crew filed inside, all looking weathered and exhausted, some with visible bruises and scrapes, others with signs of emotional bruising that weren’t as visually apparent. Roland sat with his face buried in his hands as Sarai closed the door behind the last crew member.

  Chapter 13

  Inverted thrusters had slowed the Yamada’s progression to a proverbial crawl, now traveling at thirty thousand kilometers per hour. The observation cupola was cramped as everyone tried to fit themselves inside the tank-like turret. A panorama of reinforced glass with many layers protected them.

  The astronauts marveled at the clearly visible planet Mars. “It’s so close you could almost touch it,” Frank commented.

  Renee agreed. “It reminds me of a little toy ball,” she said.

  Still, the planet was over three million kilometers away, the final leg of the journey, roughly five days of travel. It would prove to be excruciatingly slow compared to the speeds set just weeks prior. Each day would see an even slower speed, leading up to an eventual upper atmosphere insertion of the crew.

  Already the Yamada had achieved most of its space based mission objectives. The hangar lay nearly empty of satellites and probes, and a secure connection with Earth was established through laser communications, making way for Martian internet.

  Sarai dimmed the lights, signaling night had come again. Inside the conference room, Mia had an assortment of maps and graphs strewn about the table. She worked tirelessly, calculating grids and distances. She pondered theoretical mineral deposits and their locations, marking them with a marker.

  Trying to fight the feeling of boredom, Frank made his usual rounds of the ship. It remained the best way to get his mind off being 217 million kilometers from Earth.

  He couldn’t hear the work being done but the flicker of light emanating sparked his interest. Quietly, he slipped unnoticed into the conference room. Sticking close to the wall, concealed by shadow, he watched intently.

  “What do you want, Frank?” Mia said, surprising him so much that he jumped slightly.

  “Just brushing up on my stealth game,” he replied. Mia set her marker down and rubbed her eyelids. She could feel anger building up inside but repressed it. “You mean your creeper game?” she said instead.

  Frank didn’t reply to her right away. He wandered around the room a bit, choosing instead to look outside the window.

  “Enjoying the view?” she asked sarcastically.

  “You know, Mia, I had been meaning to ask you . . .”

  “Ask me what?” Mia asked, trying to entertain some semblance of a normal human conversation.

  “What exactly is your purpose on the mission?” Frank said with genuine curiosity.

  “I guess no one ever told you,” she stated. “My goal is to locate lucrative mineral deposits on Mars. Otherwise. . .”

  “Everything we’re doing out here will be for nothing,” Frank finished the sentence.

  Mia nodded her head silently. She grabbed her favorite coffee mug that sat next to her and took a long sip, gulping as she drank. The mug had a stenciled on South African flag.

  “This coffee is shit,” she burped. “Excuse me.”

  Frank wanted to ask about her husband, but decided against it.

  Suddenly, red lights flashed inside the conference room. The musical sound of alarms slowly built into obnoxiousness. Sarai hailed over intercom, summoning Captain Chartier to the bridge.

  Roland was next over the intercom. He called on Keiko and Frank to don their spacesuits. “This is not a drill, real world,” he concluded in his message.

  The astronauts filed into the main airlock, adjacent the communications module, before the main causeway. Alexei was last to arrive, taking the much faster lift system from the engine room.

  Renee helped attach the final outer shell modular inserts on Keiko and Frank. The airlock spun on an axis, creating its own gravity separate from the annular centrifuge. This caught a few of the crew members by surprise.

  In unison, Frank and Keiko booted up their suit computers with a swipe of their touchscreen wrist pads. Frank went to attach his helmet, but Roland interjected. “Wait,” he said.

  “Ok, we have been pretty lucky up until this point on not having to do any space walks until now,” Roland said, gesturing out into the void. He motioned towards a sensor and Sarai brought up a blueprint of the ship on the airlock monitor. A blinking red circle pinpointed the impact area.

  “Another breach?” Alexei groaned.

  “Yes, right here, next to the horticulture garden, right in between a small panel near the thread locks. Sarai attempted to fix it with the robotic arm but couldn’t reach,” Roland said. He paused to let the crew identify the location. “A one-in-a-million shot. What makes this so dangerous is the main life support system is housed right behind the impact site.”

  Frank could hardly contain his nervousness. His heart pounded so hard he could feel his head throb. He wondered if Keiko was as nervous as he was. She looked calm. Do I look calm? he thought.

  A long cable was attached to both space walkers as the sound of two helmets locking air-tight could be heard clearly. The familiar heads-up display uploaded relevant information from Yamada’s computer. Frank minimized the window tabs inside his visor, typing on his w
ristband to make sure everything was how he wanted it.

  “You guys about customized yet?”

  “Ready,” they replied.

  Alexei handed Frank a neodymium laser kit to preform the weld, which he refused.

  “I’ll need to rivet the damage. The laser could impact the oxygen systems and cause an explosion,” Frank said, astonishing Alexei some. Roland agreed with the assessment and Alexei returned with a handheld rivet gun, several titanium rivets, and covers.

  All astronauts vacated the airlock, taking refuge on the bridge to watch the space walk in real time. Decompression commenced, bleeding any remaining air particulates into the vacuum of space.

  A still silence enveloped the two space walkers. Frank activated his helmet feed and disembarked the airlock into the cold void. He was careful not to tangle the high-tensile cables that kept them safely tethered to the airlock. Using a local thruster of compressed air, they made their way to the impact site.

  It was hard to tell if the Yamada was moving at high hypersonic speed with no objects in space to orient themselves with. It felt as if the ship stood still and Mars never got any closer, like a still frame. Ahead, the only moving object was the massive annular centrifuge that kept its constant rotating motion. Around and around it went, its exterior lights blinking in the darkness several seconds apart. Keiko held onto Frank’s right foot as the two navigated close to the ship’s hull for a consistent bearing of direction. In space there was no up or down. It was all relative.

  The damage to the threads of the habitat module were less than obvious. Small, black flakes, a few millimeters in size, peppered the exterior aluminum panels. Frank grabbed his carabiner and a short rope, he attached it to a thin, protruding truss. Securing himself to the ship.

  With hand extended, he called out to Keiko for the tool bag, but found her unsuccessfully trying to attach a magnetic hook to the side of the ship.

  “Keiko . . . Keiko!” he said over comms. She kept struggling in frustration until stopped by Frank’s hand grasping hers. “Aluminum isn’t magnetic,” he transmitted to her softly. “Come on.” Frank motioned to the marred metal surface.