Analog Science Fiction And Fact - May 2014

by Penny Publications

  Ben calls it being one degree warmer than dead.

  I've learned Ben can have an occasionally bleak sense of humor. Laura blames it on Ben's time in the military. Ben is an altogether different guy, compared to Kevin. Ben's got a quicker temper, talks in shorter sentences, and often phrases things as commands, rather than requests. But he's really got a talent for working with hardware. He spends almost more time patrolling the internals of the ship, doing manual inspections, than he does in the gym. Laura tells me that Ben used to be a Navy man. Submariner. Worked on the missile boats. The kind of lifestyle and pedigree that had earned him a spot on the trip to Delta Pavonis.

  Therefore I did what I could not do when Cassie was awake: I showed Ben my three-D designs for the guns I was sure we'd need when we got to the new world.

  Ben slapped me on the back and was grinning ear to ear. He liked the idea so much. He also said that while Cassie was a fine lady, she had some odd ideas about how the Universe ought to work, as opposed to how it actually works, and that I was right to be concerned about what awaited us when we landed. Ben and I have thus been refining my designs— with his practical knowledge and input—and we're probably going to actually try to build a prototype before too long. That is, unless Laura can figure out what's causing the problems when I try to go into stasis.

  Audio Journal Transcript: Day 4,513

  That's it. I'm screwed.

  Laura has officially diagnosed me with stasis instability syndrome.

  There's no cure for it, and there's no way to screen for it in advance. Back on Earth the statistics are that one in ten thousand have the potential for it. After three tries in the stasis bed, I can't risk a fourth try without putting my life on the line. My body can't handle it, apparently.

  What would Kevin have called it? Dumb luck.

  Ben can barely look me in the eye. Not because of anything he did or I said, but because he knows that I've been handed a death sentence. The average healthy human male on Earth lives to 84. By the time we get to Delta Pavonis I will be pushing 90. And there sure as hell isn't any chance of going back to the Solar System.

  I've been sitting in my cabin for two days now. Contemplating suicide. Seems like the most rational course of action at this particular point in time. So maybe it's a good thing for me that Ben and I haven't actually put together a working gun yet? I'd probably have the barrel in my mouth right about now. The only other option is to go down to the maintenance bay, step into the airlock without a suit, and press the Cycle button.

  If ever there was a time I wish that I had my father—Papa, who slumbers blissfully and without awareness—it's now.

  Audio Journal Transcript: Day 4,515

  We were supposed to have woken up four more children.

  Turns out Laura woke up three kids... and one woman. Li is one of the rare adults: single. And she's a solid dozen years older than I am.

  Look, I get it. I've been pretty messed up since Laura gave me the news about not being able to use the stasis beds. I think Ben and Laura both were getting desperate. In their position I might have done the same thing. But what the hell is Li supposed to do for me? Sing a song? Do a puppet show? I'm not a child any-more. I'm a man. Who has been told that his entire life is going to be lived out on an interstellar prison, with no possibility for parole.

  Laura says Li is a medical doctor with specific training in longevity treatments, geriatric therapy, and knows her way around the stasis bed technology. Li's already hard at work in the medical bay labs trying to come up with a "cure" for my problem. Not that I think there's a hell of a lot one person can do that all of the specialists and doctors and technicians on Earth can't. If Earth hasn't been able to puzzle out the solution, I am thinking Li's just going to frustrate herself.

  And I'm having a wickedly difficult time slapping on an optimistic face. There's simply no way to "fix" this. It is what it is. All that's left for me now is to decide: is my life worth living even if it's spent living inside a steel can slowly hopping from one star to the next?

  Audio Journal Transcript: Day 4,518

  Ben's taken me off all technical and maintenance duty. I am not sure how or why he thought he had the authority, but I'm in no state of mind to argue with the man. Instead he's asked—not ordered, and that spooks me—that I devote my time to the three kids. Since I was in their place over a decade ago, it stands to reason that I'll have a connection to them that the other adults may not. Sounds perfectly reasonable. Presuming I can make myself presentable and decent. I've not been shaving, nor bathing. And I am pretty sure last time Li had me come down for some tests, I peeled the paint off the walls with my demeanor. I am not a good guy to be around when I am still trying to figure out if I should off myself.

  But I'm going to try my best.

  The new kids are named Carlos, Tanika, and Edward.

  All between eight and ten years old; or roughly the same age I was when I boarded the shuttle to Earth orbit.

  I think the original plan is a good plan: get the kids used to their new world—altogether different from what they knew before—and phase them into added areas of responsibility that will not only make them feel like they have a purpose, but will help train them to operate and maintain the Osprey, in the event that me and the other adults get taken out of the equation at some point.

  I won't know—until I've worked with them a little—how intelligent these kids are. Supposedly the selection process for the trip involved testing the children as well as the adults, so there shouldn't be any dull bulbs in the bunch. But you never know. Kroger was a dick to me for ten years, and there were times I considered doing him harm. Would either of the two new boys wind up being another Kroger? Could I resist the urge to murder if such were the case?

  Murder. There I go again. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts.

  My God, I need to talk to my parents.

  Things are really going to hell in a handbasket.

  Audio Journal Transcript: Day 4,525

  I have to admit, I am starting to like these three kids.

  Unlike Leah, Kroger, and me, these kids apparently know each other from before we left Earth, and while they're not related by blood, they behave more or less like two brothers and a sister. Oh, to be sure, a squabble here and there. But all in all they behave themselves, they help each other out, and miracle of miracles, I have even observed them saying the words I am sorry without being prodded to it by an adult.

  Laura came to my cabin and visited.

  She notes that I am not looking quite so devilish as before.

  Yeah, well, don't go thinking it's all better, lady.

  The most aggravating thing about my situation is that it's entirely out of my hands to resolve. I can't get out and push the Osprey faster. I can't go down and wave a wand over one of Li's test simulators and make it come up with the magical answer to stasis instability syndrome. And now that I am getting to know these kids... well, let's just say I don't have the heart to whack myself while they're aware of what's going on. Lord knows how it would have affected me if Kevin or Cassie had committed suicide while I was younger. And as much as I hate life right now, I can't hate these kids enough to inflict my pain on them out of selfish fear.

  So I am just kind of taking it day by day.

  Audio Journal Transcript: Day 4,545

  Li has asked me on a date.

  That sounds quite ridiculous, given the circumstances. And I am pretty sure Laura put Li up to it. But I had an e-mail from Li waiting for me this morning, asking me if I'd like to go spend some time in the third observation bubble—which is one of five scattered across the exterior of the ship. We'll have to take suits outside to get there. No way to use an internal crawl space or corridor. We'll pack a dinner, and a blanket, and have a picnic. Or at least that's what the e-mail says.

  Would it be silly of me to admit I am nervous?

  I've never been on a date.

  I've heard about them. Read about them in books and articles and news
from Earth. Seen them in movies. Although Ben informs me that the movies are mostly bullshit about that kind of stuff. He and I were in the gym earlier and I confessed my anxiety. He laughed, but then he got serious and told me he thought it was one of the best pieces of news he'd heard since being woken up—that I'd be a fool to not take Li up on it.

  So, I wrote Li back, and now we're committed.

  For the entire time she's been awake, Li's been clinical in her appraisal of me. A bona fide date suggests romantic interest. Or at least interest of a kind so personal that I am not sure I am prepared to go there with her. Last woman I knew on any sort of level like that was Leah, and we'd known each other so well we'd become like gloves to one another. Or smelly socks, depending on how you look at it. What could I possibly have to talk to Li about? Our lives, our experiences are so different, it's like we're aliens to each other.

  Well, I've got the rest of the week to figure myself out.

  The kids? They're all giggling about it.

  Teacher has a girlfriend!

  Yah. Riiight.

  Teacher has a complex, compounded by a morbid problem.

  I think I'll skip journal entries until the date's over. For better, or for worse.

  Audio Journal Transcript: Day 4,550

  Li is actually pretty cool. With a sense of humor that she keeps wrapped up tightly when she's working. Not a talkative sort.

  While we ate—out under the stars of the observation bubble—she came out of her shell. Showed me a side of herself I'd not seen before. And honestly, as hard as I tried to stay grumpy, she had me smiling by the time we were suiting back up and leaving for our return across the hull to the maintenance bay airlock.

  So if Ben and Laura's ultimate plan was to get me to take the proverbial razor blade off my wrist—and return to the land of the truly living—it might actually be working.

  The kids have been a lot of fun so far, and Li...

  Well, we've arranged to do a second, similar date—and one each week thereafter, for however long we feel like it.

  Goodness, does that mean we'll be going steady?

  I'm actually recording this with my portable digital recorder, while down in the medical bay. Li's gone to sleep for the night, after this last session of labs on one of my blood samples. And I'm just staring into the stasis beds my parents have occupied for the last twelve and a half years.

  When I put my hand on the glass, right about where my father's hand is, I realize that I am his size now. With the same thick fingers. How old was he when we left? Maybe 36? Maybe? I honestly can't remember Papa's age. When I look in the mirror, I see Papa's face, but younger. Like in the old photos from the family digital album that began when Papa and Mama first got married.

  Which is, perhaps, another reason I can't put myself into an airlock without a suit.

  Neither of my parents would ever forgive me.

  Worse yet, they wouldn't forgive themselves.

  I suspect the key to pulling people back from the abyss is to remind them that however hopeless they may be, or however hurting, their permanent absence will hurt the lives of many. And that there are other things to live for, besides purely selfish motives.

  Okay, enough with the self-psych speculations.

  I am sleepy, and it's time to get some rest. Tomorrow's a big day with the kids. And Ben's challenged me to a double workout in the gym.

  Audio Journal Transcript: Day 5,000

  Li is almost ready to throw in the towel.

  It's been over a year, and she's still no closer to solving my problem than when she woke up. She tries to put on a brave face, but... well, there's nothing she can tell me at this point that's a surprise. I've had plenty of time to adjust to the fact that the Osprey is likely to be the only home I'll ever know. If that idea used to terrify me, now it just sort of... is. Like getting a brain cancer pronouncement, but the cancer's not spreading and it can't be operated on. Maybe one day the tumor will kill me, but for the moment I'm perfectly healthy. So I'm stuck trying to find usefulness and meaning onboard this great big vessel—which has also suddenly become very, very small.

  Ben and Laura don't talk about it.

  I don't talk about it to them.

  The kids? They talk about it when they think I can't hear them. They feel sorry for me because they know if I live to see our new planet, I'll be too old to enjoy colonizing a virgin world.

  Speaking of virginity, something else I don't talk about is how Li and I have been... ummm, you know, doing it.

  Mama and Papa would have preferred that I be married first, but then if things had worked out the way they preferred I'd be in stasis right next to them. Nobody planned for me to be stuck in limbo like this. And while I suspect Li is partially doing it out of sympathy, I think she enjoys it too. It helps cure the loneliness. For a little while. When all the rest of the ship is asleep, and the computers have taken over, and the only sound you can hear are your lover's hot gasps of appreciation in your ear as you work up a naked sweat with her in your bunk.

  So at least I can say that my life on this tub is-n't celibate.

  Sorry, Mama. Sorry, Papa. I hope you can forgive me.

  Audio Journal Transcript: Day 7,500

  It'll be time to wake up the next batch soon. Like me, Kroger, Molly, and Leah before them, the new kids aren't exactly kids any-more. They've worked hard, and paid their dues. Just like Ben and Laura. All of them are anxious to go back to sleep. Let someone else take the reins for awhile.

  Li says she's going to stay awake with me.

  I've told her many times that I can't allow it. She's a medical doctor, and where we're going all medical doctors will be worth their weight in platinum-coated diamonds. For the colony to succeed, Li must sleep. Whether either one of us likes it, or not.

  She tells me I can't stop her.

  I tell her that she'll be dead long before I am, assuming she can stay sane for the entire trip. Something I am not even sure about myself, much less someone else.

  She's already got lines on her face. And I've seen the little silver strands in her black hair— when we're curled up together and she's fast asleep. Leaving me wide awake and wondering how it's going to be for me when I take the only woman I've ever held in my arms and loved, and put her back into stasis for the remainder of the voyage.

  Ben and Laura have agreed to help me.

  It won't be difficult.

  One of these nights after Li and I have made love, I'll slip some sleeping agent into her electrolyte drink. Then when I'm certain she's out for keeps, I'll call Ben and Laura on the comm, we'll all carry Li down to the medical bay, and I'll resign myself to watching her through the lid of a living coffin—for the rest of my days.

  Audio Journal Transcript: Day 8,500

  With Ben, Laura, Li, and the kids all safely put away—down in the medical bay—Chris and Janicka came next.

  Dealing with them is different than dealing with Ben, Laura, or any of the other adults to date. Because I've become an adult too. Just a few years younger than Chris and Janicka, biologically speaking. Though I'm feeling far older—and less charitable—than when Ben and Laura took charge.

  Now I'm the point man. The one with the experience. So that I feel like I'm devoting my time to managing six children, instead of four.

  Which is not to say the arrangement remains precisely unchanged from the way it was before. I told them all that while I was perfectly happy to help show everyone the ropes—and do a little baby-sitting now and again—since I'm the odd man out for this particular phase of the voyage, I play by my own rules, and would remove myself from the pell-mell of the daily chore list whenever I pleased.

  This does not exactly cheer Chris or Janicka, but then I didn't ask for their permission either. After all, they are going to go back to sleep eventually. I'm not. Therefore they owe me. Just as everyone else onboard owes me. Even my parents.

  Unlike Ben and Laura, Chris and Janicka weren't husband and wife when they boarded the
Osprey. In fact, they don't get along that well. Though Janicka surprised me in one specific way.

  She likes to work out with me in the gym the same way Ben and I liked to work out in the gym, whereas Chris is a bit on the pudgy side and loathes anything that makes him break a sweat. So while Janicka and I don't have much else in common, over a few weeks we've gotten to understand each other the way gym rats everywhere understand each other.

  Audio Journal Transcript: Day 8,525

  Spending time with Janicka in the gym, I've learned that she prizes physical fitness. And admires people who can stick to a regimen. Something I've been doing for years. She wouldn't believe me when I told her I'd been soft as a kid. Even made me show her pictures as proof.

  When I got done giving her a brief tour of my flabby childhood, there was a little mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

  Thus Janicka's sneak visit to my after-workout shower was not precisely unanticipated.

  One moment I was all by myself—the curtain zipped up and hot water pounding across my tired muscles.

  The next moment I heard the curtain unzip. With soap in my hair I didn't dare open my eyes. I felt strong female hands on my shoulders, arms, chest, biceps, and... other places.

  All the rest was automatic.

  Now, I won't lie. Having to put Li into stasis still hurts too much. This thing with Janicka... we're not a couple. Not really. Janicka is a different kind of woman altogether. Not nearly as sensitive nor hidden as Li is. Janicka knows what she wants, and isn't afraid to say it. Or take it.

  Janicka is also on the kinky side—nobody ever told me the birds and the bees could be as interesting as it's been since Janicka and I hooked up.

  I don't love her. And she doesn't love me. That much we've made clear. But the sex is its own kind of bond, helping each of us to escape from different problems.