Oxygen Series Box Set: A Science Fiction Suspense Box Set

by John Olson

  Valkerie nodded thoughtfully and turned to Bob. “My second question is for Bob. Bob, are you absolutely sure that this ship is sound?”

  Great. Dump it all back in my lap. Of course I’m not sure. Who’s sure about anything in life? “All I can do is repeat what you already heard. We have some problems, but I voted go. The riskiest parts of a mission are the launch and reentry. We survived a tough launch without busting up. I believe the worst is behind us.” Bob shrugged. What more could he say?

  Valkerie sighed and turned to Kennedy. “My last question is for Kennedy. What happens when I vote no-go?”

  Lex sucked in her breath and her face went rigid. Kennedy put a hand on her arm. She shut her mouth and stared at Valkerie with fiery eyes.

  Kennedy shook his head and looked steadily at Valkerie. “I wouldn’t like that decision, but I can’t ask you to risk your life against your will. So if you vote no-go, we’ll abort the mission. Possibly, some of us might fly to Mars on a later mission, but you are aware of the budgetary constraints. There probably won’t be a next mission.”

  Valkerie nodded pensively and looked around the circle at their faces. Silence hung heavy on the group. Bob held his breath.

  “In that case I vote ... go.”

  * * *

  Sunday, January 26, Year Three, Noon

  Valkerie

  “Stand by for trans-Mars injection in one minute, thirty-five seconds.” Kennedy’s voice boomed through the flight deck of the Hab.

  Valkerie leaned back in her flight chair. This was it. The flight computers were set. All they had to do was initiate a command sequence, and they’d be on Mars on July fourth. If the ship didn’t fall apart, and if the guidance systems didn’t miss the planet, and if they didn’t kill each other first.

  She pulled her harness tighter to force herself down into the seat. It was hard to sit in zero-g. Without gravity the body didn’t want to bend.

  The others talked among themselves in hushed voices. They had pretty much left her alone since the meeting. As if they were afraid she would change her mind if they disturbed her. Hopefully they’d loosen up after the burn—after they were committed.

  But what if they didn’t? Could she stand two and a half years with Kennedy? Had she made the right decision? Valkerie didn’t know anymore. She had been so sure that Kennedy was going to be a problem, but he seemed fine now. Mostly ...

  “TMI in thirty seconds.”

  Two and a half years... It hadn’t seemed like such a long time when compared to all the time she’d invested in her education, but viewed up close and personal from the confines of an orbiting tuna can, it seemed like an eternity. She couldn’t afford to lose two and a half years. Her biological hourglass was leaking sand fast, and unless she discovered life on Mars, her dating options were going to be extremely limited.

  “TMI in fifteen seconds.”

  Valkerie dug her fingers into the padding of her armrests. One word… All she had to do was shout one word, and they’d be forced to abort the mission. She had the power to stop the roller coaster at the top of the hill. Why wasn’t she using it?

  She breathed a quick prayer and held on tighter. Once she took the plunge, there was no turning back.

  “Five, four, three, two, one. Firing main engine.”

  Valkerie was pushed back into her seat. Not the gorilla-on-your-chest pressure of launch, but after a day of weightlessness, it felt just as intense.

  Her senses reeled as what had been forward suddenly became up, and what had been behind suddenly became down.

  Kennedy’s voice filled her mind as he counted off the seconds. “TMI plus ten ... TMI plus twenty.” His drawl thickened with every word. She could hear the smirk of triumph in his voice.

  “TMI plus one eighty. TMI plus one ninety.” Kennedy paused. Valkerie’s heart fluttered.

  “I hope nobody wants to go back, ladies and gentleman, because we are past the point of no return.”

  Part Three

  As aviators and test pilots had discovered since the days of cloth and wood biplanes, cataclysmic accidents in any kind of craft are almost never caused by one catastrophic equipment failure; rather, they are inevitably the result of a series of separate, far smaller failures, none of which could do any real harm by themselves, but all of which, taken together, can be more than enough to slap even the most experienced pilot out of the sky.

  Jim Lovell, Commander of Apollo 13 mission

  Psychiatrists and psychologists agree that piloted missions to Mars may well give rise to behavioral aberrations among the crew as have been seen on Earth in conditions of stress and isolation over long periods of time ... At the present time, little effort has been spent developing techniques for crew selection that will adequately guarantee psychological stability on a voyage to Mars and back.

  NASA’s Mars Reference Mission Document

  Chapter Fifteen

  Thursday, April 3, Year Three, 5:00 P.M.

  Valkerie

  VALKERIE SMILED INTO THE HANDHELD camera, squinting against its light. Bob hadn’t taken the camera off her for more than a minute during the entire press conference. What was wrong with him? Did he like watching her squirm? He’d better be planning to edit the tape before sending it back to Earth. They were now more than two months into the mission, and the radio delay had grown to almost four minutes—too long to hold a press conference in real time, even if their Ku-band antenna had been working.

  Bob pressed the Play button, and they listened to the next prerecorded question from the NASA moderator down on Earth. “Another question for Dr. Jansen,” the moderator’s voice filled the main cabin. “Jon Simon, a sixth grader from Placentia, California, would like to know: How are you going to get back home?”

  Lex twisted in her seat. Kennedy cleared his throat impatiently. Valkerie turned toward them and gave an apologetic shrug. This was the third question in a row directed at her. The others were starting to get irritated, but what could she do?

  Valkerie forced a smile for the camera. “As you know, Jon, we don’t have the rocket fuel to turn around. The only way we can get home now is to go on to Mars first. We have a nice comfy module waiting for us there on the surface of the planet. That’ll be our home for about a year and a half. Then we’ll fly a small rocket up to join the Earth Return Vehicle that’s already waiting in orbit around Mars. We’ll come home in that. I know it all sounds very complicated, but Commander Hampton is a very experienced pilot. He’ll get us home safe and sound. Don’t you worry.”

  Bob pressed the button for the next question. “A question for Dr. Ohta, from fourth grader April Townes, in Atlanta, Georgia. She would like to know: Are you ever afraid?”

  Valkerie sighed with relief as Bob turned the camera to Lex.

  “No way!” Lex leaned forward, her back straight as an arrow. “I love it up here. I’ve been waiting all my life to go to Mars. We’re going to learn how Mars was formed and whether there’s ever been any life there. And most importantly, we’re going to find out whether humans can turn Mars into a New World where you, April, might come to live someday.”

  Bob pressed the button again. “The next question is for Commander Hampton, from eighth grader Jason McCready in Denver, Colorado: Are you going to be weightless for the entire journey to Mars, and if so, will that cause you any problems when you get there?”

  Kennedy flashed a big smile at the camera. “When we left Earth orbit two months ago, we had intended to reel out our last rocket stage on a long tether and set the ship spinning around it. The centrifugal force would feel just about like gravity to us. We haven’t been able to do that yet because of all the plumbing problems. Having gravity would just make things worse. But we’re almost done fixing those problems, and Dr. Kaganovski has finally patched up our data bus. Tomorrow we’re planning a spacewalk to fix our broken antenna. After the spacewalk we’ll do our centrifugal force trick and then we’ll have gravity for the rest of the trip. So we don’t expect any problems, um, Ja
y, when we reach Mars. We should be in great condition.”

  Bob pressed the button again. “The next question is from Shannon Winslet, a third grader from Rock Hill, South Carolina. Dr. Jansen, what’s it like going to the bathroom in space?”

  Valkerie felt the heat rise to her face. “As you can imagine, going to the bathroom in space can be a challenge at times. Zero gravity makes a lot of things more difficult. Exercise, for example ...”

  Kennedy leaned in front of Valkerie. “Shannon, our toilet here on Ares 10 is specially designed with foot stirrups and clamps to hold you down. The Ares 10 isn’t the only thing that gets launched by jet propulsion. Want to see our toilet? If Dr. Kaganovski will just follow me with the camera, I’ll be happy to show you our bathroom. It’s only the size of a small closet, but it gets the job done.”

  Valkerie shut her eyes and let herself go limp the second Bob took the camera off her. She hung motionless in the air, every bone in her body tingling with fatigue. The last two months had been a nightmare—a mad scramble to fix one piece of broken equipment after another. The cooling system had started leaking right after trans-Mars injection—right behind the panel that Kennedy had supposedly spilled his juice on. And working on cooling systems was no picnic. She’d ingested enough antifreeze to keep her warm on Pluto.

  Then there was the data bus. Kennedy had said it would be an easy fix. What a joke. Bob hadn’t finished it until this morning—after eight weeks of painstaking work. Which meant it finally made sense to repair the Ku antenna. For the moment they could only transmit data over the S-band, and that would take forever—especially for compressed video. The only good thing about the lack of a high-speed connection was that it had ruined the NBS plan to turn this voyage into a reality show. There just wasn’t enough bandwidth. So America had to be happy with short little interviews like this one. Valkerie wondered if the lack of TV coverage was costing NASA much money. Probably billions, but Nate wasn’t saying and nobody on the crew felt like pressing.

  Kennedy’s voice got louder. They were coming back. Valkerie windmilled her arms and kicked her legs, but she was too far away from the floor to push off. She couldn’t reach the ceiling either.

  “Hey, Bob, get in here, quick!” Kennedy’s shout shot up her spine like an electric shock.

  Valkerie stopped her flailing and hung motionless in the air. She wasn’t going to struggle. Wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  “Hi, Valkerie,” Kennedy beamed and stepped in closer. “Mind telling our audience why you’re lying sideways?”

  “I’m not sideways, you are.” Valkerie smiled at the camera.

  “Are you stuck? Would you like a hand?” Kennedy extended his hand with exaggerated formality.

  “No, thank you. I’ll drift to the ceiling eventually. Are there any more questions?”

  Bob clicked the button. “Dr. Jansen.” The moderator’s voice. “Fifth grader Liz Smith from Ogden, Kansas, wants to know if it’s possible that the first man on Mars might be a woman? If so, would you like to be first? And the same question goes for Dr. Ohta.”

  Valkerie looked to Kennedy and Lex. She felt her cheeks flushing again. What could she say? Of course she wanted to be first. “Honestly, I haven’t thought that much about it. I would certainly be honored if I were chosen to take that first step. But I’m ... uh ... not really sure how that gets decided.” Oh great. I just went on record as being the most ambitious person on the crew.

  Bob turned the camera to Lex.

  She didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely, it would be wonderful if a woman were the first to step out on a whole new planet. Just like Dr. Jansen, I would love to have that honor, but unfortunately I don’t get to decide. By tradition, the commander of the crew makes decisions like that.” Lex looked to Kennedy. “Commander Hampton? America wants to know whether you’re going to choose the first man on Mars to be a woman?”

  Kennedy hesitated.

  “I don’t think Commander Kennedy could possibly be expected to make such an important decision right now,” Valkerie said. Bob switched the camera back to her. She could see Kennedy scowling at her out of the corner of her eye. “Um, Mars is still three months away. A lot could happen during that time.”

  And in the meantime, a little kid from Kansas has just thrown another monkey wrench into life on board the Ares 10.

  * * *

  Thursday, April 3, Year Three, 8:00 P.M.

  Bob

  Bob closed the video-editing software and compressed the final version of the press conference. He started up the transmission process. The video upload would tie up the S-band channel for the rest of the night. Editing it had taken forever, and they didn’t have much time. He had a lot of repairs to make before the spacewalk. Since trans-Mars injection, he had discovered four separate problems. Problems that should have been reported. And three of them were on systems that Valkerie and Kennedy had checked. There was absolutely no excuse for such negligence. Valkerie was new. He could understand that she might miss something. But Kennedy? He was the second engineer. Kennedy should have checked her work personally.

  Bob rummaged in a drawer for some work clothes. A disturbing thought burned in his gut. What if Kennedy had been checking out something else instead? It was hard to imagine him being so irresponsible, but it certainly would explain some things. Like Josh’s mysterious concerns about Kennedy’s mental state—and the bad vibes that had sprung up between Kennedy and Valkerie almost immediately after launch. Bad vibes? What if their bickering was just a cover? They seemed to get along well enough now. Too well.

  Bob pulled some coveralls out of a stowage bin and tried to think about something else. Kennedy and Valkerie could work things out for themselves. He had a job to do. The Hab was heating up again. Right before the press conference, he had studied the computer 3-D image of the temperature sensors aboard the ship. No doubt about it, there was a heat source down in the service bay. Which meant yet another problem in the cooling system.

  He changed clothes slowly, careful not to make any noise. Blue Team—Lex and Kennedy—were on sleep shift, and he didn’t want to disturb them. Kennedy in particular seemed exhausted. Eight hours would do him a world of good.

  Bob slid his door silently aside and peered out. Valkerie was scheduled for an exercise session on the treadmill in the main cabin. If he was really quiet maybe he could sneak past her and duck downstairs without a confrontation.

  Things would have been a lot easier if Kennedy hadn’t switched Valkerie to Red Team. The last thing Bob needed right now was to have to spend social time alone with her. It was hard enough working with her. He still couldn’t figure out why Kennedy had made the change. Maybe Kennedy had made another pass at her, and she’d shot him down. Yeah, that was probably it. It was inevitable. Kennedy was the type to make passes, and Valkerie was the type to shoot them down. Besides, she was a professional. She could never be interested in a guy like Kennedy. Kaggo, you’ve been imagining things.

  Bob floated quietly through the corridor. Voices! He froze. Whispered voices. Coming from the main cabin. Why would Valkerie be whispering?

  He pushed himself forward into the cabin and froze. Kennedy was huddled close to Valkerie at the conference table. Valkerie looked up at Bob with wide eyes. Consternation puckered her features.

  “Bob, I was starting to worry you wouldn’t come.” Valkerie’s voice seemed strained. “Please, join us. We were just talking about you.”

  I’ll bet you were. Bob leveled his gaze at Kennedy. “What are you doing still up?”

  “Valkerie and I started chatting, and I lost track of time.” Kennedy didn’t look Bob in the eye.

  “He was telling me about your first trip on the Comet. Did you really give the instructor a black eye?” Valkerie’s laugh sounded forced. She fixed Bob with pleading eyes and motioned with her head toward Kennedy.

  Bob felt suddenly uneasy. What did she want from him? If she wanted him to leave, she could just say so. He didn’t have time for chil
dish mind games. “The trainer was anchored too close to me, that’s all.” Bob glared down at Kennedy. “Right now, I’ve got work to do. There’s another coolant leak on the lower deck, and somebody has to fix it.”

  “It looks like a big job,” Kennedy said. “I noticed it right before my shift ended, but Valkerie needed me to help her with the bioreactor filters ...”

  Bob felt his ears getting hot. What was that look from Kennedy supposed to mean? What was he insinuating?

  “Bob, please. Sit down and talk.” Valkerie twisted out of her seat and started toward him. “You have to take a break sometime.”

  Bob swallowed hard and yanked himself toward the stairwell with a ceiling strap. “I need to get to work. The coolant leak won’t wait.” He turned as he ducked through the hatch and caught Kennedy looking at Valkerie with a self-satisfied smirk. “If I were you, Hampster, I’d get some sleep. Tomorrow’s the big spacewalk.”

  Bob pulled himself down the stairwell, not waiting for Kennedy’s reply. He let out a deep sigh when he reached the lower level. Something was definitely going on between those two, but what? Was Valkerie trying to butter up the Hampster so she could be the “first man on Mars”? Kennedy wasn’t going to give that one away. Not cheap, anyway. Valkerie was playing with fire if she wanted to go kissing up to Kennedy. She didn’t know what kind of guy he was.

  What was with her, anyway? Didn’t she know better than to look at guys like that? One wide-eyed, innocent look from her could seduce a monk at thirty paces. Valkerie had to know what it did to guys, but still she kept it up. It was driving Bob nuts.