Project Columbus: Omnibus

by J. C. Rainier

  “I asked her to give us some privacy. I wanted to come see you myself, and to see how you are doing.”

  “Peachy,” Cal muttered.

  Dayton regarded him with concern. His downward drawn lips made his thick brown beard vaguely resemble an upset walrus. He pushed from the wall and stopped just a few feet from Cal.

  “There’s something that’s clearly upsetting you. If you tell me what it is, maybe I can help you with it.”

  That’s rich, Cal thought with disgust.

  “No disrespect, Colonel, but you’re not my therapist.”

  “You’re quite right,” Dayton said evenly. “That role belongs to Doctor Taylor, though as she’s a medical doctor, psychiatry is a bit of a stretch for her. She’s doing the best she can, but you’re turning out to be quite a bit more than we bargained for at first.”

  “Don’t talk to me about bargaining, sir,” Cal shot back. His mouth felt heavy as the words poured out.

  Without skipping a beat, Dayton responded, “And why not?”

  Cal was not expecting such a direct tactic from his adversary; he was prepared to dance around the issue with the man until he could corner him. He stuttered for a moment as he searched for his answer, even though it was going to be equally direct. The medication in his system slowed his thoughts, and frustration began to mount as the perfect words eluded him. He continued anyway.

  “Because you broke your promise to me.”

  “How so? How did I break it?”

  “You had the doctor sedate me right after we woke up.”

  “That was for the safety of the ship, Mr. McLaughlin. If I had broken your promise, would I have bothered to wake you up at all?”

  No, you wouldn’t have.

  “Did I revoke your accesses to the ship’s systems? To the gym or library?”

  “How the hell would I know that? I was put to sleep fifteen minutes after I woke up,” he growled.

  Dayton swept his arm in the direction of the computer terminal. “You can take my word for it, or you can check the computer. It’s your choice.”

  Cal pushed off of the sleepers and maneuvered around the ship’s commander. “You’ll pardon me if I trust the computer more than you at this point, sir.”

  “Of course.”

  Cal tried to log in to the computer using his credentials. It bleeped at him and spat back an access error. “Trust you, huh?”

  “Try it again, Mr. McLaughlin. I assure you I haven’t done anything. Maybe you entered the wrong password.”

  Cal scoffed and assertively re-entered his login. It didn’t reject them, and the application selection routine came up immediately. Incredulous, he blinked and pressed on. He checked his accesses to the various systems. None of his permissions had been removed. He even had access to the passenger check and sleeper controls, despite telling Dayton that he would not be involved in the maintenance cycles.

  “What the?” he gasped, then collected himself and prepared to continue his battle. “Okay, so I still have access. You could have put that back together at the last second, as a trick. How do I know that you won’t just change your mind and put me right back in?”

  Dayton sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s no trick. Check your friend’s sleeper berth.”

  Cal blinked at the Colonel and then brought up the passenger check again. His fingers trembled as he pushed the buttons to call up pod twelve. He could hear Dayton speaking over his shoulder to someone deeper into the recesses of the sleeper pod as he worked, but Cal was focused on one sole task: making sure she was okay.

  XCS-02 POD 12 DELTA 14: UNIT OFFLINE

  His heart skipped as he read the words from the screen and saw the grayed outline of the human icon. Neither heart rate nor respiration showed anything; they were grayed out as well. Cal couldn’t believe his eyes. He exited the program, brought it back up, and confirmed the data.

  “Cal?”

  It’s her. It’s really her.

  He turned to face her, and put on a brave smile. He was anxious and terrified to his core, but didn’t want to let her see it. She would be surprised to be awake and not at the planet, and Cal knew that if he freaked out again, it would spell the death of any chance he had of redeeming himself in her eyes.

  “Hey, how are you feeling?” he asked, tripping over the words.

  “Like I want to yack. What’s going on here? Why was I woken up? Why was there a crewman waiting on the other side of my door? Why isn’t there any gravity?” Her questions were launched at him like rockets, and he couldn’t get a word in edgewise. “Who is this guy here? Seriously, what the hell is going on?”

  “Explaining will take a while,” he said with a nervous laugh. “Let’s just say that you’re not a play toy, and I’m going to prove it to you if you give me a chance. When we last saw each other, we both know I did something incredibly stupid. I’m going to make it up to you now.”

  Her eyes darted between him and Colonel Dayton. “And now you’ve got the crew involved?”

  Dayton cleared his throat. “Not the whole crew. Just myself, the ship’s doctor, and one of my ops officers. For that matter, I do need to warn you to stay out of the way of the ship’s crew as they go about their duties.”

  “Out of the way of their duties? What is this? Who are you?”

  “Forgive me, I didn’t introduce myself.” He extended his hand toward her. “I’m Colonel Thomas Dayton, in command of the extrasolar colony ship Michael.” Alexis looked at Dayton’s hand but made no effort to reach for it. He retracted it and continued, “We’re preparing the ship for landing on the planet Demeter, which will happen in just under two months. As far as what’s going on right here and now, I’m fulfilling a promise I made years ago.”

  Alexis folded her arms against her chest and glared at the two men. “Really?”

  Dayton shot a sly grin at Cal and shook his head, then made his way for the exit. “Good luck to you, Mr. McLaughlin,” he called as he made his way out of the hallway.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I ah… well, he…” Cal tried to think of a way to explain what Dayton meant, but thought better of it as he wasn’t ready to lay out all the cards yet. He turned off the computer then waved his hand. “Nothing. Inside joke. Look, we both know I screwed up, but I just want to put this out there. You’re not going back into stasis. Any time you sleep, you’re going to wake up the next morning, just like if you were in bed back home on Earth.”

  She turned away from him, grabbing the edge of the hatch frame to stop her spin. “I don’t have a home. It was taken from me.”

  Cal sighed and his head bowed.

  Ten minutes. Go ten freaking minutes without antagonizing her, stupid.

  “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

  “Yeah, I get what you meant.” Her voice was cold and dead. Cal cringed as the words escaped her lips.

  “Alexis, please. Let me make it up to you.”

  “I don’t know how you can. Just leave me alone.”

  No, not again. I can’t take this again.

  His heart felt as if it was ripped to shreds as he heard her mutter something under her voice.

  “You monster.”

  Alexis disappeared into the darkness beyond the hatch as Cal was left to float alone, shocked, and numb.

  No…

  1st Lt Darius Owens

  6 April 2058, 14:12

  Gabriel

  “Sir, I’ve run the figures over and over again.” Captain Tyler Quinn avoided eye contact with his commander as grasped the railing on the command platform. A distinct pinging noise filled the air as he tapped a single finger.

  “It’s not good, is it?”

  “No sir.”

  “Well, give it to me then, Captain,” the colonel said as he rubbed his brow.

  “We’re within the extreme range of the pods’ emergency transmitters. We should be picking up something. Static. Gibberish. Anything.”

  “But w
e’re not, are we?”

  “No sir, not a thing.”

  Colonel Charles Eriksen scratched at his beard as he turned his attention to Darius, who clung to the railing opposite Quinn. “Nothing at all, Lieutenant?”

  “No sir, it’s like the captain said.”

  “And you’re sure the pods cleared Raphael before the reactor blew?”

  “To be honest sir, no. The distress call was too garbled to tell for sure. We know they planned an emergency drop, we just can’t be sure if it happened.”

  Eriksen drew his hands to the armrests of his chair and squeezed until his knuckles turned a ghostly shade. Darius could even swear that the man had a fresh patch of gray appear in his beard since the distress call was received from Raphael. Eriksen unlocked his chair and turned to face the bow of Gabriel. Quinn and Darius in unison turned their heads the same direction, and their sight through the bridge glass fell on the ever growing orange disc of Alpha Centauri B.

  “Are you a religious man, Captain?” the commander asked in a soft voice.

  “No sir, not really.”

  “What about you, Mr. Owens?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Do you think that God is out here?”

  “Sir?”

  “Do you think that God has influence out here? Or do you think that it’s just on Earth?”

  Darius stared off into the nearly dark void as he hesitated. “I can’t say that I’ve thought about that, sir. I’d like to say that he’s everywhere. Here too.”

  “But you’re not sure.”

  No, I’m not. Darius didn’t dare speak the words. It was bad enough that he had thought them. He knew that a crisis of faith was one of the last things he needed at this point, and yet he knew from friends back on Earth that such crises always happened at the worst times.

  “Sir, what would you like us to do?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation down a different course.

  “Open communication with Michael. Share the information we have on Raphael, see if they have any new information. If there’s anything at all that can be done to prevent such a…”

  Darius waited for almost a minute for Eriksen to finish his sentence. “A what, sir?”

  His right hand rose from the armrest and waved Darius off. “Just get the lines open, Lieutenant.”

  “Yes sir.” He nodded at Captain Quinn before floating his way off the bridge and into the gallery.

  As he made his way down the length of the ship, his mind replayed every detail of the distress call from the lost sleeper ship. The echo from the deep recesses sent a numbing chill down his spine.

  Thousands lost.

  Next was a replay of the harsh rebuke that Colonel Dayton had given Darius during a conversation after he had discovered the com system exploit all those years ago. The daggers in the man’s voice and the choice words that he had saved to describe Colonel Eriksen haunted him through untold millions of miles of space.

  Even as Darius managed to shove aside Dayton’s words, his own commander’s tirade about Colonel Dayton rose up. Darius shook his head furiously and clutched at his ears in futility. He knew the memories were in his head and the gesture would make no difference, but it felt somehow natural.

  The two colonels have barely spoken to each other this whole time, he thought. And they’ve been pissed at each other when they have. Do we really have a chance out here with these two bickering?

  Darius made the transition from the gallery into the support section and into the computer core. He pushed off of the wall and made his way through the parallel racks of equipment to the mainframe interface terminal, then seated himself and strapped in. He turned on the computer and stared at the blinking cursor of the login screen for a moment before proceeding. In a matter of minutes, he had unblocked the com system. Darius retrieved the headset from its position – velcroed to the side of the mainframe’s casing – and adjusted it on his head. With a flick of his wrist across the screen, he activated the inter-vessel com.

  “Lieutenant Darius Owens to sleeper ship Michael, please come in.”

  Dead air. This was not a surprise to Darius, as the last time he had spoken with anyone live on that ship, there was about a twenty second delay due to the distance separating the ships. Darius waited, but received no response.

  “Lieutenant Owens to Michael, come in please.”

  Dead air.

  Please answer.

  “Gabriel to any crew member of Michael, respond please.”

  Dead air. Darius concentrated on breathing deeply as the seconds ticked away. Frustration was beginning to mount for him, but he knew that should he receive a response from another ship, he couldn’t afford to direct any anger or sarcasm at the respondent.

  What does it matter? Colonel Eriksen didn’t want to talk to them anyway. It only took the destruction of another ship for him to change his mind. Why would Dayton want to talk to us?

  “Lieutenant Darius Owens to any crew member of Michael, please respond. I have a proposal.”

  Please… please…

  A voice crackled through the headset, faint and slightly echoed. “This is Sergeant Drisko of Michael. I read you, Lieutenant. Please state your request, and I will relay it to Colonel Dayton.”

  Darius clasped his hand over the microphone boom to silence the sigh of relief that escaped his lungs. When he breathed in again, he released his hand.

  A small miracle.

  “I assume you’ve heard the distress call from Raphael. Colonel Eriksen suggests an exchange of information between our crews regarding this matter. He feels it is in the interest of both ships to avert any potential issues we may be facing shortly.”

  Darius watched the seconds tick by on his console. Seconds turned into minutes. Come on. Send your response.

  “Yes sir. Colonel Dayton agrees to the exchange. Transmit when you are ready, and we will do the same once we receive your data.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant.” Darius paused for a second. “It’s good to hear your voice again.”

  Darius leaned back in his chair to wait for the response from the other ship.

  “You too, sir. Drisko out.”

  2nd Lt Darren Cormack

  Planetfall +8 days, mid morning

  Eight miles northeast of sleeper pod seven site

  Darren paced slowly toward the head of the column, stopping at each cluster of refugees on his way. Discarded meal pouches, torn up undergrowth, and small ash piles served as a reminder that the group had not moved in two days. A few barren patches showed the signs of human use, but their inhabitants were not present; these were the individuals or families that Darren was forced to relocate to the rear of the column, where the thus far ineffective medical quarantine had been set up.

  He picked Sergeant Daniels out of the crowd at a distance, and covered the ground with long, swift strides. She saw his approach, snapped to attention, and saluted.

  “Do you have the report I asked for?” Darren asked as he returned her salute.

  “Yes sir. At the rate we’re going through the food, we’ll run out in five days.”

  Darren heaved a great sigh. “Well, that’s better than the four days you gave me yesterday. Whatever the hell this bug is at least is keeping people from eating. What about our water?”

  “The fresh water we brought with us is almost gone. We don’t even have a day’s worth for the whole camp.”

  And there it is. Whatever the hell this bug is has us going through our water too quickly.

  “Alright,” he said after a moment of thought. “Go get Wu. Tell him I want an update.”

  “Yes sir.” Daniels snapped on her heels and jogged off to the quarantine area.

  Darren wandered to his right, to another group of three refugees – a mother and two young boys – clustered beneath a tall palm-like tree. The mother was embracing and comforting the younger of her sons, and she eyed Darren suspiciously as he approached. He knelt in front of them and forced a soft smile. The younger boy coug
hed hard enough to shake his mother’s body, and Darren saw that his face was ghostly white.

  “How’s he doing?” he asked the woman.

  She hesitated for a moment, glancing at her son and then back at Darren. “He’s burning up and he can’t keep anything down.”

  “Alright. One of the nurses is coming up this way. I’ll have him see to your boy as soon as he can, I promise.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  The woman shook her head vigorously and clutched her son closer. Another coughing fit wracked his body, one hard enough that he seemed to gasp desperately for air. Darren rose quickly and moved away once again toward the front of the column. He had no intention of checking on anyone in particular; he merely wanted to get away from the sick child. He had seen the effects of the illness first hand, and there was no way to get around the fact that they were unpleasant, to say the least. He ducked around a tree and out of sight of the family, then slouched against the trunk, resting his brow on his arm.

  Damn it, it’s spreading.

  Two days prior, there had been five sick passengers. That number had grown to nine just one day later. The young boy would make at least ten, possibly more depending on the report he was about to receive from Brett Wu, one of two nurses among the survivors who volunteered their skills. He kicked nervously at the base of the tree, attempting to push the anxious thoughts from his head, but only succeeded in changing the pattern of dirt streaks on his boots.

  I wonder how bad it would be if we just pressed on. He shook is head and banged it against his arm twice. No, we can’t. The sick can’t travel, and we have no way to safely carry them.

  Two sharp peals of gunfire made Darren jerk upright, and sent him running in the direction of the noise. He pumped his arms and legs furiously as he ran back down the column. One of his scouts – a scruffy middle-aged man by the name of Hank Adams – stood just to the side of the column, slowly lowering his rifle as he looked off into the woods. Darren pulled up next to him.

  “What the hell was that?” he asked.

  Hank grunted and pointed at a lifeless brown lump a hundred feet away, tangled in a bushy vine. “One of those damned jungle cats. I thought I saw something coming down that hill over there so I waited until I could see it again. Sure enough, a few minutes later, I see it hunkered over in that bush, looking at me like I’m dinner.”