Firmament: Reversal Zone

by Pennington,J. Grace

  The airlock was even quieter than the shuttle had been. And it wasn't just silent—there was a deep, final quality to the lack of noise. There were no unexpected sounds, no outbursts, no yells, or even footsteps. There was nothing except the soft engine whirs and vibrations around us, and the faint ambiance of beeps and blips. That was all.

  Whales pulled out his scanner and looked at it. “Life support is still going fine. Seems like the engines are running.”

  “Then... why are they stopped?” Crash wondered aloud.

  We stood in silence for a moment, then Crash spoke again.

  “We should have a look around.”

  Guilders turned to him. “You are not in command of this venture, Mr. Crash.”

  “I beg your pardon, sir, but I didn't say that I was...”

  “I'm the first officer,” Guilders insisted.

  “If you don't mind,” the Doctor said in the cold, civil tone that was becoming too familiar, “I believe Andi is the one in command of this mission.”

  They all turned to me, and their gaze seemed to settle a palpable weight on my shoulders.

  “Crash is right,” I said. “We should look around.”

  “Who should go where, though?” he asked deferentially.

  I licked my lips, thinking. “I don't know. I guess... the Doctor and I can head to the bridge and see if anyone's up there... see what's wrong. Crash and Whales can have a look at engineering...” I thought for a moment.

  “I'm going to the bridge,” Guilders said.

  I didn't argue. He was the first officer, and I was too strained to get into a verbal altercation.

  “August... you can have a look at the central computer systems and try to get an overall view of what's going on.”

  “And if you see anyone,” Crash added, “be careful. If they're in the same state as us, who knows what someone might do.”

  “We can communicate through the intercoms,” I said. “Let's go.”

  We stepped out of the airlock, again struck by the eerie silence. It was like a ghost vessel. A foreboding shiver ran through me.

  “Could the crew have abandoned the ship?” I whispered. It felt somehow wrong to speak aloud.

  “Nope,” Whales said. “Looks like all the shuttles and pods are in place.”

  Crash started down the left hall, beckoning Whales to follow, and I, after a second’s hesitation, started down the right with the rest of the party in tow.

  We didn't speak as we crept down the corridors, and the first jarring sound came when we rounded a corner and I screamed.

  Less than a meter before me, stretched out on the ground, was a man. Eyes closed. Motionless.

  The Doctor knelt and pressed his fingers against the man's neck.

  “Freighter uniform,” Guilders pointed out.

  I looked down at the gray-clad man, my heart still pounding.

  The Doctor looked up at me and shook his head. “Dead.”

  Silence for a moment. I pulled my focus back from the shock, and asked, “What cause?”

  He stood up and shook his head. “I'm not sure. No outward symptoms except dry lips and dry skin. I'd like to take him back for an autopsy.”

  “Maybe you could take one of them instead,” Guilders dryly suggested, pointing ahead.

  Half a dozen more uniformed crewmembers were strewn down the hall, all motionless. They were all either sitting propped up against the wall, or lying down in a comfortable position, rather than being haphazardly dropped to the floor.

  “So it wasn't sudden,” August said. He sounded callous, but he was right They had all chosen to sit or lie down.

  The Doctor and I examined each of them briefly. It took every effort to force my frayed nerves to remain calm and clinical as I pressed my fingers against one cold neck after another, looking in vain for pulses. Some didn't have the dry skin and lips, or didn't have it as bad. But they were all dead. After each examination the Doctor stood up straight and frowned, but said nothing.

  “What should we do with them?” I whispered as we reached the elevator.

  “Leave them for now,” the Doctor said. “We need to see if anyone else is alive.”

  We rode the elevator up to A-Deck. I stiffened my muscles, trying to calm the tremors that threatened to shake my body and betray the fear and horror lurking beneath my forced calm.

  When we reached A-Deck, it was dim and silent. August started off to look for the main records room, while the rest of us made our way to the doors that led to the bridge.

  The doors slid open, revealing a sight that froze us all.

  All the bridge positions were filled, technically. A body sat at each station, but that's all they appeared to be—mere bodies. Most of them either had heads laid on their consoles or lolling over the back of their chairs, and the Captain, Dooley, was slumped so that his torso hung over the arm of his command chair, with his head dangling centimeters from the floor.

  After a stunned moment, the Doctor darted forward to examine them all. Guilders and I remained in the doorway and watched him. Minutes later he looked up from the last man to report, “All dead.”

  My mind raced. Was the cloud deadly? I remembered the dry skin and lips. Had it dehydrated them? Whatever it was, was it doing it to us as well?

  “What now?” Guilders asked, looking at me.

  I thought for just a moment. “We need to know if there are any survivors. Doctor, can you make a sweep of the whole ship?” I didn't like the look he gave me, but I needed Guilders with me right now, and the Doctor really was the one who should do the checking.

  “All right,” he said, and left the bridge.

  A voice came from the captain's chair intercom. “Andi? You there?”

  August. I strode forward and replied, carefully avoiding Dooley's corpse. “I'm here. What is it?”

  “Can you come have a look at this?”

  I turned to Guilders. “Have a look at things here, please... communications, anything else that might tell us what happened.”

  “Okay,” he said, sullen. I slipped out and went to the records room.

  It was a small, triangular space, and every surface was covered in drives and processors. August sat at one of the screens in the middle of the aft wall, studying the images depicted there.

  I stepped next to him and looked at it. “Well?”

  He glanced at me, then pointed to the screen. “There aren't a lot of records from after they were lost, other than the communication logs from the weird messages we found. But there are some calculations and simulations for something... some kind of plan. Looks like they had an idea for how to get out of here.”

  I looked back towards the doorway. “I guess they ran out of time...”

  “But if we can use this, maybe we don't have to.”

  His tone was matter-of-fact and grating. My August would have much more compassion for all these people, lost in a hopeless mission. He would have gone pale and his eyes would become wide and sorrowful. He might have even passed out.

  An ache swelled in my chest. A sickening loneliness that only comes from being surrounded by those you should know and trust, but don't.

  His face softened. “Andi... we can use this so that more people don't have to die.”

  I bit my lip and nodded. “What was the plan?”

  Turning back to the screen, he started a block imaging simulation and pointed at it. “It looks like they were trying to link together all of their systems, and isolate a main power source in a vacuum to see if they could keep the cloud from getting at it. Trying to generate enough power to warp out of here in one swoop. There was only a fifty-fifty chance of it working on the simulators, with so little knowledge of the cloud... but it was a chance.”

  “I have a feeling a vacuum wouldn't stop the cloud...” I said.

  He shrugged and looked a bit more like his old self. “It was a chance.”

  We both stared at the simulation for a moment, then I said, “Keep looking. I'm heading back to the b
ridge.”

  He nodded, and I slipped out to confer with Guilders.

  The first officer looked up from the panel he was examining when I walked in. “Nothing helpful,” he said. “I'm skimming the security footage, but there are days' and days' worth. The ship's logs are useless.

  “Did we bring any storage?” I asked.

  “Of course.” He pulled a memory stick from his pocket.

  “Let's take the videos with us to review on board.”

  He nodded and plugged the stick in.

  The doors opened and the Doctor strolled in, bowed over with weariness. “Not a single survivor. All fifty-two dead.”

  I tried to keep my eyes off the corpses that surrounded us, and hoped my quick shiver wasn't visible. “Do you know yet what killed them?”

  “Like I said, I have an idea but I'd still like to do an autopsy first. We'll take two of the bodies back with us, to be safe.”

  “Do they still have provisions?”

  At the Doctor's nod, Guilders interjected, “We should take some of that, too. Just in case.”

  The caution was typical Guilders, and made me smile just a tiny bit. “All right. Can you two get that loaded on the shuttle as quickly as possible?”

  Both men nodded and left the room.

  A weight blanketed me the minute the doors closed behind them. The room was so silent. It flashed me back to another time, just a few days before, when I'd stood on a bridge surrounded by motionless bodies.

  But in that instance, they hadn't been dead.

  I should us an intercom to check on Whales and Crash down in engineering.

  I should use one outside this room.

  When I darted through the bridge doors, I nearly ran into August in the hall.

  “Are we almost ready to leave?” he asked.

  I nodded, breathing deeply to calm my pounding heart. “I think so. Just need to load a few things.”

  “Okay. I have an idea,” he said.

  My hopes rose. “A plan to get out?”

  He nodded. “Their plan was good, but not good enough. But we have a much more powerful tool than a vacuum.”

  Chapter XVI

  “You've got to be kidding me!” Guilders' palms slapped down on the table, and he jumped from his seat.

  The Captain cleared his throat and stared at my brother.

  McMillan just looked at the floor.

  August's reply was snappish. “If you have a better idea...”

  I stood up. “He's right. It's the only way.”

  “Andi, what do you think your father would say?” Guilders protested. “Well?”

  The Doctor had rushed to do the autopsies on the Pigeon personnel as soon as we'd reboarded the Surveyor.

  “I'm sure he wouldn't like it one bit.”

  “There!” Guilders said.

  “But Mr. Guilders, it's the only way. I'm willing to try it.”

  Crash spoke up for the first time during the conference. “He might be right, Andi.”

  Hadn't the Doctor said that our motivations should remain the same? I didn't think there was an ounce of fear in Crash. He was foolhardy rather than brave, with a reckless love for danger unmatched by anyone else I knew. So why the hesitation?

  The Captain pressed his fingers to his temples. “Let me get this straight. You want to link all the systems together, as the Pigeon crew was planning before their... untimely end...” Here he stopped and closed his eyes tightly for a moment. “...and then strap Andi to the power source so she can keep the cloud away so the systems will work long enough for us to warp right out of here?”

  August nodded.

  “You're talking about your own sister, Howitz!” Guilders leaned forward. “Can't you hear yourself?”

  “Mr. Guilders,” Crash rebuked.

  Guilders leaned heavily on the table and lowered his head for a moment, breathing deeply. Then he sat back in his chair.

  August's face was nearly white, but he spoke clearly. “I know. I know... we don't know what it might do to her. But it's our only chance for ourselves as well as for her.”

  Silence fell over the room, and I slowly sat back down. All five of the men were pale, with drooped shoulders and eyes reddened from exhaustion.

  “Captain?” I ventured.

  He held his head. “Just let me think...”

  I let him.

  “It's breakfast time,” Guilders said after a moment.

  I glanced at my wristcom. It was almost five hundred. I'd been awake for over twenty hours now.

  “Yes,” the Captain acquiesced. “Eat breakfast, all of you. I'll have a decision for you by the time you're done. No, Andi,” as I opened my mouth to speak, “this could put your life at risk and I can't let you help me with the decision. Now go eat.”

  We stood up and filed out of the room.

  The hallways were too quiet. Crash and August fell into step beside me, and Crash wondered aloud if there would be any breakfast ready for us.

  “Almira always has a few meals ready for the early risers.” I wasn't as optimistic as I sounded, with Almira in her current state.

  No one was in the mess hall when we arrived and the lights were still off, leaving just the dim light from the direction of the galley to distinguish the shapes of the tables and chairs.

  Our group silently navigated the furniture until we reached the snack bar, and I scanned the counter for covered trays of food. Nothing.

  “You wait here,” I told the others. “I'll check the galley.”

  They drifted off to find seats and I slipped into the galley, feeling the illogical need to tip-toe in the darkness.

  The galley was empty, and the door that led to Almira's little room on the left was closed. I looked around the dim room, but didn't see any meals sitting out. A few dishes were in the sink, and a couple of rags littered the metal counter. I sighed.

  Silently, I crept to the temp regulator to find us a small something to quench our hunger. When I opened it, the door swung back further than I had anticipated, and the handle hit the counter. I winced.

  The noise died, leaving silence unbroken again. I reached for a hunk of cheese on the second shelf from the bottom.

  “Just what do you think you're doing?”

  I jerked my head towards the voice. Almira stood in the doorway in her pink pajamas, arms crossed over her chest.

  I cleared my throat. “Looking for some food...”

  “It's not mealtime yet.”

  I nodded, barely able to hold the emotions in check. I was so tired, and afraid, and I couldn't bear to hear my Almira talk like that.

  “Speak up! Why are you eating now?”

  Instead of replying, I covered my face with my hands and started to cry.

  Seconds later, warm arms wrapped around me and held me close to a soft body that smelled like fresh bread. There were no words, only my stifled sobs and the soft breath of the ship's cook near my ear.

  She was still there, just like the rest of them. Underneath it all, she was still the same.

  I breathed deeply, in and out, several times before straightening up and pulling out of her embrace. Her eyes met mine, softer now. “Why don't we get a little breakfast ready together, honey?”

  I smiled and said, “Sure,” while wiping away my tears.

  Side by side we whipped up five plates of scrambled eggs and sausage with leftover bread from the night before, and served it to the others. McMillan and Guilders sat a few feet away and discoursed in low tones, while Crash and August sat at a small table with me. Almira squeezed my hand before returning to bed, and I kept my fist gently clenched for several minutes, hoping to retain the comfort.

  Neither my brother nor my cousin asked what was wrong or showed extra concern, so I assumed that they couldn't see any traces of tears on my face. I was grateful. I couldn't have them thinking I was afraid of the proposed plan, not when so much hung on it.

  As they began to relax around me, August frowned. “Andi...” he began, “I do
n't... I don't know about this.”

  “Like you said, it's the only chance,” I insisted. “Besides, I trust you.”

  His frown didn't abate.

  Crash was unusually quiet. He made a couple of witty remarks, but his heart wasn't in them. For the most part he just ate his food without speaking between bites.

  I felt better after eating, and took the time to pile our dishes in the sink before heading back up to the briefing room with the men.

  The Captain still sat at the head of the table, leaning back in his seat with eyes closed. We entered the room quietly and took our seats, but he didn't move until after everyone was settled. Then he opened his eyes, but said nothing for several seconds.

  I didn't prompt him. We just waited, so quiet we could hear the faint humming of the ship.

  Finally, he spoke, without sitting up. “You're right, August. It is the only chance.” He turned to look at me, reddened eyes dull. “I'm sorry, Andi...”

  “But...” Crash interjected, “we don't have to do this right now. We have over ten weeks to get out...”

  “I think we have much less time than that.”

  We all turned at the sound of the Doctor's voice. He stood, face grim and shoulders drooping, in the doorway of the briefing room.

  “What do you mean, Gerry?” The Captain's voice lacked inflection.

  “I mean I've finished the autopsy on the Pigeon crewmen.”

  A short pause followed, and Guilders leaned forward. “Well?”

  The Doctor looked from one to the other of us as he concluded. “They died of starvation.”

  Chapter XVII

  “But that's impossible!” August was the first to protest.

  “They had two weeks worth of food left,” Guilders added. “We saw for ourselves.”

  “I know.” The Doctor sank into a chair at the far end of the table. “I know, but I've checked both of them thoroughly, twice each. I already suspected it from the visible symptoms of the crew, and this confirms it.”

  A heavy silence dropped over the room. No one spoke. My heartbeat accelerated.

  Why would the crew not eat? The entire crew?

  “It gave me an idea...” the Doctor went on, speaking slowly and a little too quietly. “Three of my fish have died since we've entered the cloud, and I autopsied them after I finished with the Pigeon crew. They starved also. But I fed them myself just yesterday. I saw them eat.”