by Joe Hart
Carson watched her, and she saw the clockwork going on in his head. He sat forward, not looking at any of them, and said, “Put it to a vote. In favor of leaving?”
Gillian raised her hand along with Birk, Easton, and Leo. Lien hesitated before slowly joining them.
“Okay,” Carson said. “Lien, I’m promoting you to commander, Easton to command pilot. Prep the ship immediately for departure. I think you can be ready to leave in less than ten hours if we hurry.”
“What are you doing?” Gillian asked.
“Staying,” he said, and returned his attention to the others. “What are you waiting for? You have your orders.”
They rose from their seats and filed out of the room, all except Birk, who hovered uncertainly near the door until Gillian nodded, dismissing him. She and Carson had remained, mutually unwilling to leave before the other. She waited silently, looking at him, at the person he’d become.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said finally.
“You know I do. There’s too much at stake. I’m responsible for the mission and everyone on this station. I can’t run away now.” He smiled sadly. “I knew the risks when I left the ground the very first time. When I looked through my dad’s telescope, that was it for me. This is where I belong.” He came nearer, and surprised her by taking one of her hands. “Thank you for everything you’ve done. I don’t know if you’re right about what’s happening here, but you did all I asked of you and more. I know you can never forgive me, but I do wish things would’ve been different.”
“That you wouldn’t have kidnapped me?” she asked without malice.
“That I never would’ve let you go in the first place.”
She tried finding something to say, but the words wouldn’t come.
The room suddenly lurched around them, the floor canting to the right.
Carson latched on to her arm and braced himself against the table. “What—” he started to say.
But a piercing alarm began wailing, drowning out his voice.
September 17, 2028, approximately one month after Discovery VI disaster.
South Daytona City Police Department.
Incident Report #5547798.
Receiving Officer: Det. Roberto Gonzaga.
Complainant: Katrina Nichols.
Det. Gonzaga: Mrs. Nichols, we’re on the record now. Please state your name and the reason for your visit to the department today.
Nichols: My name is Katrina Margaret Nichols, and I’m here in regards to my niece, Carrie Marie Ryan.
Det. Gonzaga: And what’s the issue with your niece?
Nichols: I don’t really know where to start. It’s . . . it’s all jumbled up. Okay, my sister is . . . was Gillian Ryan, she was on the Discovery Mission.
Det. Gonzaga: The one—
Nichols: Yes, that one. The whole reason she was there was because Carrie was sick. She has Losian’s disease. Gillian was a medical liaison for the mission, and I was taking care of Carrie for her while she was gone.
Det. Gonzaga: Would you like a tissue?
Nichols: No, no, I’m fine. You think you’ve cried everything out, and then there’s just more. There’s always more.
Det. Gonzaga: You were saying about Carrie?
Nichols: She got worse after Gillian left. She has these lapses, she called them the fuzzies. They were coming more and more, sometimes daily, and it was really hard. My husband had to start taking time off work to help, and with my pregnancy it was becoming really stressful. Then last month . . . the disaster. I . . . I loved my sister so much, it was . . .
Det. Gonzaga: I’m very sorry for your loss.
Nichols: Thank you. God was supposed to take care of her, take care of both of them. I prayed every night after she left. But . . . I didn’t know what to do afterward. I couldn’t bring myself to tell Carrie, and it was terrible trying to keep it from her with it all over the news. She kept asking when her mom was coming home, and I always told her “soon.” So when the men from NASA showed up at our door, I thought I finally had to come clean.
Det. Gonzaga: Representatives from NASA visited you? When was this?
Nichols: Three weeks ago. They came to the house and offered their condolences. Thank God Carrie was sleeping then. So after they answered a few of my questions about the mission and why we hadn’t been able to speak to Gillian before everything happened, they said Gillian had sent all of her research findings back to Earth prior to the disaster. They said she’d made several breakthroughs that could possibly help Carrie. They asked us to bring her to this medical installation on the edge of the NASA campuses and leave her with the staff who would begin her treatment.
Det. Gonzaga: And you brought her there?
Nichols: Yes. We brought her. I can still remember her being led away. She looked back at me like I was the last person she knew and . . . and . . .
Det. Gonzaga: It’s okay.
Nichols: And that I was abandoning her.
Det. Gonzaga: Would you like to take a break?
Nichols: No. No, I need to tell you this. They said the treatment might take up to six weeks, and as acting guardians, we would be kept informed of her status and would be notified within the next week when we could visit her.
Det. Gonzaga: And did they?
Nichols: They called early one morning before my husband was about to go to work. They said there’d been a complication with the treatment. And they wouldn’t let us see her. I asked over and over again to see her, and they said no, it was too dangerous since the procedures they were using were biohazardous . . . they wouldn’t let us see her. That’s why I’m here, you have to make them show her to us.
Det. Gonzaga: Okay, I’m sure we can clear this up with some phone calls. Regardless of treatment, you have a right to visit her.
Nichols: No, you don’t understand. When they called she was already gone. She died from the treatment, and they won’t even let me see her body.
FORTY
The control room was chaos when they stepped inside.
Six crew members sat or stood at their consoles, all positioned with a clear view outside the station, where the bulk of the area was taken up by the ship they’d arrived on. The station jerked again beneath their feet, this time less vigorously, but now Gillian could see what was causing the disturbance.
The shuttle they’d left Earth on, which was docked to the EXPX, was moving. Or at least attempting to move. A faint glow came from the engines, and the powerfully built attachment struts linking the ship to the station torqued violently side to side.
“What the hell’s going on?” Carson asked the nearest crew member.
The man’s bloodshot eyes found him before turning back to his screen. “The shuttle’s main engines are online.”
“What? That’s not possible. Someone would have to be on board.”
“Then someone is. We need to undock the EXPX now, or the airlock could be compromised.”
“Undock? No, there’s got to be another way.”
“I’m telling you, Commander, there isn’t. And we don’t have time for manual shutdown. Either we release and re-attain, or we risk depressurization of the entire station.”
The floor vibrated again, violently this time, and the shuttle’s engines flared brighter.
Gillian stepped closer to the window. The struts flexed like arms succumbing to a great burden. She turned and locked eyes with Carson, knowing the implications of what was about to happen.
“Do it,” Carson said.
The crewman at his elbow typed furiously on the screen, then swiped first left then right before jabbing his finger a last time.
Strobes erupted along the length of the docking struts, and they shook again, sending a quake through the floor. One by one, the attachments holding the EXPX in place loosened, and far below, the airlock twisted before retreating to the safety of the station.
“Carson—” Gillian said.
“It’s okay. We have to let it go. Once it’s c
lear of the station, we’ll send the lander out and retrieve it.”
She watched the huge ship slip free of the attachments and slide away, beginning to rotate beneath the attached shuttle’s insistence. The whole thing took on the image of a toy in an invisible child’s hand, drawing their only hope of escape away into the darkness of space.
“Airlock stability a hundred percent,” the crew member said, studying the screen. “No apparent damage to the station’s docking apparatus either. Trajectory puts the EXPX outside of the planet’s gravitational pull. So far so good.”
“I want one of the landers readied for my crew’s use. They’ll board and shut down the shuttle.”
“Yes, sir.”
The fire from the engines lengthened, taking on a white-orange hue as the rotations increased in speed. Gillian stared as the distance grew between the ship and the station. There was a chorus of steps behind her, and she turned and saw Lien, Easton, and Birk entering the room.
“The hell’s the ruckus about?” Easton asked, his eyes widening at the sight beyond the glass. “Uh, Commander, is that not our ride swiftly floating away?”
“There was a malfunction with the engines. I’m arranging a retrieval, and you two are going to head it up.”
Birk moved past them and stopped beside Gillian. “This is not good, Doctor.”
“Did I ever tell you you’re a master of the understatement?”
“I believe so. Yes.”
The door opened again, and Orrin appeared, the sharpness of his gaze taking them all in before scanning the spiraling ship. As he approached them, Gillian saw his hair was wet, actually dripping onto the collar of his jumpsuit.
“What is going on?” he asked.
“Shuttle malfunction,” she said.
“Shit. Anyone on board?”
“Supposedly.”
“About broke my neck in the shower a minute ago when the shaking started.”
“Gillian, can I speak to you outside?” Carson asked, motioning to her.
“Sure.” She started to turn away, but Orrin placed a hand lightly on her arm.
“Thanks again for listening last night. I had way too much too fast. Spent most of the day sleeping it off.”
“It’s okay. Glad I came along at the right time.”
“You really did.”
She gave him a smile and started to follow Easton and Lien out of control.
A flash of light filled the room, throwing her shadow forward in a monstrous representation that just as quickly slid sideways and disappeared.
Gillian spun, hearing Orrin draw a quick breath in before he swore loudly.
The EXPX was on fire, and the shuttle was gone.
A corona of flaming debris flew outward from the massive ship, a gaseous cloud obscuring the rear half of the wheel that suddenly ignited in a dazzling ball of light. There was a half-second pause as the scattered fuel burned away before the ship vanished in an incandescent flash.
Her legs weakened, and her stomach heaved. Lien said something in her native tongue, and someone’s hand found Gillian’s shoulder. Squeezed it.
Pieces of the ship erupted from the explosion, their trailing afterimages like giant meteors compared to the shuttle’s wreckage. Orrin turned his head to the side and covered his face with one hand. She knew she should be doing the same, that the brightness of the explosion was probably damaging her retinas, but she couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop seeing the flames lick outward into space and collapse as the fuel burned itself in almost beautiful halos. Couldn’t drag her gaze from their only way home disintegrating into jagged and useless shards that could never bring her back to her daughter.
Then she was being led away, dragged from control as she tried to stay because she had to watch, had to see the last of the fire disappear along with her hope.
FORTY-ONE
Carson was shaking Gillian, looking her full in the face, his nose nearly touching her own.
“Gillian, snap out of it.”
She looked to the left, but the door to control was closing, shutting out the vestiges of the fiery blast, the crew members still standing at their stations like carved monoliths.
“Gillian?”
“I’m okay,” she said, unsure if she was.
“None of them moved,” Birk said.
“What?” Carson asked, letting go of her shoulders.
“The crew. None of them even flinched when the ship blew.” Birk looked around at the group. “Like they were expecting it.”
Easton rubbed the side of his jaw and nodded. “Goddamn. He’s right, Commander.”
Birk stared at the closed door as if he could see through it. “What do we do now?”
Gillian thought about it, tried to bring her jostled thoughts to order. There had to be something, some way to still get off the station. “They’ll be coming for us,” she said quietly.
“What?” Carson asked.
“Now that we’re trapped, they’ll try to get rid of us. The ship blowing up is the perfect cover. They’ll say it was an accident while we were undocking.” She was shaking, and her heart was a wounded bird in her chest.
All eyes turned to Carson, who glanced past them down the hallway as a pair of men exited the elevator and stepped into a room out of sight. “Listen, we don’t know for sure—”
“Carson,” Gillian said. And there was something in her voice that made him look at her. Really look at her and listen. “There’s no fixing this. How do we get out of here?”
He was quiet for a moment before saying, “We’ll take one of the landers. Easton, make sure it’s prepped. Lien, find Leo, he was in medical last time I checked. Bring him to storage on level two, and gather all the supplies you can find. Gillian, you and Birk can help them. I need to go to my quarters, then I’ll meet you and we’ll load everything on board. We’ll especially need water and hydrocleanse units. At least two. Nobody stop for anyone. Keep moving, and do what you need to do.”
“Sir, the lander doesn’t have that kind of distance capability,” Easton said. “We’ll run out of fuel a quarter of the way back.”
“I know. We’ll have to send out a distress call to control.”
“And wait for rescue? No, screw that, Commander. That could take six months. Maybe a year.”
“I don’t think we have a choice,” Gillian said.
“They’ll come get us. Especially when we tell them what’s happening here.” Carson glanced around at them. “Is everybody ready?”
“Absolutely not,” Birk said.
“Good. Let’s move.”
They set off down the hall, ignoring the sound of the door to control opening behind them as they entered the elevator.
Several crew members stepped into the hallway and watched them as the doors slid closed and they ascended. The quiet was unnerving, knowing what might be waiting for them on each level. But an ember of hope had flared in Gillian with the plan.
They were going home.
Or would die trying.
The doors opened to the crew-quarters level, and as Carson stepped off, a thought struck Gillian.
The research. All their findings. It was still in the lab and stored on the station’s mainframe computers.
“Shit!” Her exclamation drew everyone’s attention. “All our findings, the tests and research. It’s all in the lab.”
Carson grimaced. “How fast can you get it?”
“Five minutes. Tops.”
“You and Birk go, I’ll meet you at the lab.” He looked at Lien and Easton. “Both of you stick with the plan. We’ll rendezvous on base level.” Without a look back, he turned and hurried down the hallway as the rest of them stepped back inside the elevator.
When they reached the research level, Easton and Birk took position beside the doors, their fists clenched at waist level.
“Swing for the fences if there’s anyone there, big guy,” Easton said.
Birk quirked an eyebrow at Gillian.
“If there
’s someone outside, punch them,” Gillian translated.
Birk nodded.
The doors opened.
The hall was empty. Easton eased out and glanced both ways before nodding. “Don’t be late now,” he said as she and Birk moved past him. “It isn’t Uber waiting downstairs, you know.”
The last thing she saw before the doors closed was his smile.
She led the way, constantly checking behind them as they went. The hall was deathly quiet, no movement anywhere.
They reached the lab, the lights igniting as they crossed the room.
“What should I do, Doctor?” Birk asked.
“Stand by the door and keep watch.”
While Birk peered out into the hallway, she opened their research files, verifying each one as she added them all to a single folder. She brushed aside two stacks of paper before finding a microdrive she inserted in the computer. With two clicks she downloaded the data and began to shut the computer down, but stopped. What if something happened to her? The research, all her findings would disappear.
Gillian logged on to the station’s mainframe, navigating through the system while racking her brain about the comms instruction she had received.
“Doctor?” Birk asked.
“Hold on.” She found the messaging software and located an attachment program before selecting the file. In the corner of the screen, she saw an audio/video symbol and, after a beat, clicked it.
Her own image appeared on the screen with a blinking red dot in the upper right-hand corner.
“This . . . this is Dr. Gillian Ryan. I’m . . . this is a distress call. Our ship has been sabotaged, and there’s something wrong with the crew. A . . . a sickness of some kind. We are trying to evacuate and will contact you again soon for a rescue. We need help. Please. We’re—”
“Doctor. Someone’s coming.”
Gillian clicked the “End” button and scrambled for a terrifying second before she was able to attach the video message along with the file.
Her hand shook as she stabbed “Send.” She glanced up at Birk, who had shrunk away from the door.