Oxygen Series Box Set: A Science Fiction Suspense Box Set

by John Olson

  Who would have believed Lex was married? According to the rumor mill, she’d gone out with half the guys in her ASCAN class. The networks had somehow tracked down this guy Anderson and they were interviewing him live on TV. And the poor guy was red-eyed and blubbering and the networks just had no mercy at all, did they?

  Nate clutched his Kleenex. The tiny receiver that NBS had given him crackled in his ear. It was one of the TV execs, some twenty-six-year-old whiz kid in a five-thousand-dollar suit. “Great show, Nate! This is fabulous! The ratings are even better than if they’d—”

  Nate yanked the earpiece out. What a moronic, freeze-dried piece of beef jerky that kid was. As if this were a show where the actors got up at the end to do another one tomorrow.

  Now Valkerie’s deathwatch. A photo of her in surgical greens, taken while she was at Johns Hopkins. Valkerie Jansen, M.D., Ph.D.

  Nate wiped at his eyes again. Still dry. Finish this segment and then it’ll be over. All over but the crying. If there were any tears in his locked-up, dried-out little heart. What was wrong with him, anyway?

  Valkerie was born in Grand Rapids. Nate hadn’t known that. Went to school at Yale, biochem. Then Hopkins for med school. Quit to take care of daddy after her mother died. Nice kid. Then on to Florida for her Ph.D. Was about to start her postdoc at Wisconsin when Steven Perez brought her into the Ares program. We grabbed her, trained her, and shipped her off on a wing and a prayer.

  The segment ended with the picture and her final words. “ ... Hugs to you, Josh Bennett, we know how desperately you wanted this mission to succeed, and the extraordinary steps you took to make it so. Please don’t blame yourself if ... something happens to us. We know you did everything you could, and we love you. We’re about to land. We’ll catch you on the flip side in about an hour.”

  The TV screen switched back to Teague Auditorium, live. Perez stepped slowly up to the mike and set a black book on the podium. “I’d like to read something right now, said by the man that I admire most.” He flipped the pages, wiping at his eyes. “I’m reading from the Jerusalem Bible, John 15:13. ‘A man can have no greater love than to lay down his life for his friends.’” Perez closed the Bible. “Valkerie Jansen and Alexis Ohta proved themselves today to be heroes of the highest caliber. Heroes who will never be forgotten. They will be remembered—not for their dedication, not for their bravery or intellect or strength or charisma—but for a quality that far transcends all other virtues. They will be remembered for their love. Valkerie and Lex, we will never forget you. Thank you for sharing your lives with us all ...”

  The room suddenly went out of focus. It took Nate a second to realize why.

  He was crying.

  * * *

  Friday, July 4, Year Three, 1:00 A.M.

  Bob

  Bob sat up on his cot with his head in his hands, waiting for his dizziness to pass. A dull ache settled over his heart. He didn’t want to remember. Didn’t want to think. If only it were all a terrible dream. A lingering nightmare that would fade away in the morning sun.

  Bob pushed himself to his feet and braced against the wall. He took a few tentative steps. It was going to take a while to get used to walking again. But that was okay. He had nothing better to do with his time.

  Bob slid open his door and stepped out into the circular corridor. He could hear Kennedy’s raspy breathing through the thin walls. He slid Kennedy’s door open and peeked inside.

  Kennedy lay on his back, snoring away.

  Funny, Kennedy hadn’t snored on the Hab. Must be a gravity thing. Bob started to close the door, but paused for one more look.

  A thunk sounded somewhere behind him.

  Bob stared down at Kennedy. Kennedy hadn’t moved a muscle. Bob stepped out into the corridor and froze. The sound wasn’t repeated. It must have been a ping—something settling. He circled the central stairwell, and stared at the stairwell hatch, listening. Had he heard something else? He couldn’t be sure.

  Taking a deep breath, Bob walked down the stairs, leaning heavily against the rail. A quick search of the downstairs level revealed nothing. There was only the rover, connected to the Hab through the airlock. The women’s bodies were in there. He and Kennedy hadn’t had the heart to carry them inside yesterday, and they had been too exhausted to give them a decent burial.

  Bob pulled a flashlight from its charging station on the decontamination room wall and stepped carefully into the airlock. His heart pounded in his chest, and his stomach surged as he spun open the hatch. He paused to catch his breath. He didn’t want to go in. Couldn’t go in. She had been so beautiful. So full of life. He wanted to remember her that way. What if she ... what if her body ... ? He didn’t even want to think about it.

  Bob took a deep breath and held it. Valkerie was gone. The ... shell in the rover wasn’t her. No more than an empty beer can was a beer.

  Bob pushed on the hatch, and it swung open with a metallic groan.

  Something moved inside the rover.

  “Bob, is that you?”

  Chapter Forty

  Friday, July 4, Year Three, 1:10 A.M.

  Valkerie

  “BOB?” VALKERIE SEARCHED THE DARK chamber with blurry eyes.

  A metallic thunk rang out behind her, and an unseen object clattered to the floor.

  She tried to sit up, but a sharp pain pierced her rib cage. “Lex, is that you?”

  A low, keening moan filled the tiny room. Blinding light stabbed though the darkness and fixed on her. A dark specter approached, tottering back and forth behind an erratic beam of light.

  “Bob?” Valkerie rolled onto her side, crying out at the pain.

  “Valkerie?” a strangled cry erupted above her. “I thought ...” Valkerie made out Bob’s shadowy features a tottering instant before he collapsed onto his knees, covering her in a trembling embrace.

  “Bob, stop, you’re hurting me.”

  His body shook with convulsive sobs.

  “Bob?” Valkerie tried to pull away, but he clung to her tighter. “Bob? What’s wrong?” She reached an arm around his neck and held him, ignoring the pain in her ribs. “Is it Lex? Is she ... is she okay?” A feeling of impending doom settled over her like a damp fog. She swallowed hard and waited for Bob’s tears to subside.

  After several minutes Bob pulled slowly away. His face was creased in pain. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he caught at his breath, fighting against the sobs that still shook his broad shoulders.

  “Bob, please. You’re scaring me. What’s wrong? Where’s Lex and Kennedy?” Gritting her teeth against the pain, she reached out and touched the side of his face.

  Bob caught up her hand in his own and stared at her through haunted eyes. “We thought ... we thought you ... were dead.” He forced the words out between heaving breaths.

  “Dead? Didn’t you check? Didn’t you read the note?”

  Bob took a deep breath and wiped at his face. “N-note?”

  “I pinned it to Lex’s chair—with the needle of the syringe.”

  “What syringe?” Bob leaned in close. Tears still flowed freely down his face.

  “The one with the sodium pentothal.”

  Bob frowned and shook his head. “I thought ... it was all gone.”

  “Bob, I’m so sorry. I explained it all in the note. I found the syringe in the pocket of one of your jumpsuits.” Valkerie tried to sit up, but her ribs screamed out in protest.

  “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know. My chest. It feels like my ribs are all fractured.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  “I thought you were dead. I ... tried ... CPR.” Bob hung his head.

  Valkerie couldn’t help smiling. “If I’d been dead, I’m sure it would have worked. It feels like you used a sledgehammer.”

  He looked timidly up at her. A fresh trail of tears ran down both cheeks. “I’m really sorry. I ... I just couldn’t ...”

  “It’
s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. How’s Lex?”

  Bob’s mouth dropped open.

  “Bob, where is she? Tell me she’s okay.”

  Bob shot a look behind Valkerie. “We checked her pulse ...”

  “It’s very faint. You have to feel the carotid. Right here on the neck.”

  Bob crawled out of sight. A few seconds later she heard a gasp. “I think I feel a pulse! I think she’s—”

  Valkerie squirmed onto her side and arched her neck to see Bob crouching low over a dark bench. “Is she okay?”

  “Her eyes just moved. I think she’s ...” His voice trailed off as he leaned closer over the dark shadow on the bench. “Lex, it’s Bob. Are you ... awake?”

  Valkerie could just make out a muffled cry and then Lex’s faint voice. “Who was first?”

  A very long pause. “Nobody was first,” Bob said. “There weren’t any TV cameras. As far as the world knows, Kennedy and I never touched the ground. Valkerie is still going to be the first man on Mars.”

  * * *

  Friday, July 4, Year Three, 11:00 A.M.

  Bob

  Bob stepped into his quarters, shut the door, and flicked on the encrypted comm link. Josh had set up an appointment for Sarah McLean to talk with him—him alone—at 11:00 A.M. sharp. Said it was urgent. Bob waited out the seconds until the hour. What in the world could Sarah have to say to him? He hadn’t talked to her in forever.

  Right on schedule, Josh’s voice came over his headset. “Bob, this is Josh.” His nose sounded stuffy, like he had a cold or something. There was a seventeen-minute comm delay right now, so Bob didn’t bother trying to respond. “Here’s Sarah Laval. She’s got an important message for you.”

  Sarah Laval? Good for her.

  “Hello, Bobby. This is Sarah. I just wanted you to know that your message meant so, so much to me. It’s such a precious gift. I’m so sorry for what I did to you, and I’m thankful you’re alive. I’ve been praying for you.” A long pause. “I guess that’s all for now. Bye.”

  That was it? The important encrypted message?

  “Um, hi, Sarah. Thank you for your prayers. I, uh, really appreciate it. Now more than—”

  “Okay, buddy, this is Josh again. We’ve got to talk fast. Sarah just left the room.” Josh sniffled loudly. “Sorry to use her that way, but I couldn’t think of any other way to talk to you in private.”

  “Listen, Kaggo, I never in a million years ...” Another loud sniff. “Bob, I never meant to hurt you, but I ... Kaggo, the explosion ... it was all my fault.” Josh’s voice wavered and dissolved into a torrent of sobs and sniffles. Bob waited in agony, letting Josh get it out of his system. Confession was good for the soul—even for a well-meaning soul.

  “Kaggo, listen, I never intended it to go off in the bay.” The sound of a nose blowing. “It wasn’t a bomb ... I swear. Just a device to ... seed Mars with life. Bacteria. Harmless bacteria. It was gonna be, you know, our ... insurance. But ... when I got bumped ...” A deep sigh. “Please don’t hate me, Kaggo. And please don’t tell Kennedy and Lex. I think Valkerie already knows.”

  Bob grabbed the mike. “Josh, listen up. First of all, we already know. All of us. Valkerie figured it out yesterday. And we still love you—even Kennedy. Really. As far as we’re concerned, there’s nothing to forgive. All you meant to do was save NASA by seeding a barren planet with life.”

  Bob wiped his eyes. “But listen, Josh, sometimes things just ... you know, work out different than you expect. You wound up seeding a barren heart, and that’s ... something I’ll always be grateful for.”

  Someone pounded on Bob’s door. “Showtime, Bob!” Kennedy shouted.

  “Listen, I need to go get suited for the Mars walk, but we’ll talk again, okay? Watch the telecast—I’ve got something special planned. Over and out.” Bob switched off the comm link.

  Another knock at the door. Bob opened it.

  “Hurry!” Kennedy said. “You’ve got fifteen minutes to get your EVA suit on.”

  * * *

  Friday, July 4, Year Three, 11:20 A.M.

  Valkerie

  Valkerie relaxed, letting the stability rack hold up most of the weight of her suit. What could be taking Bob so long? How could talking to Sarah McLean be important enough to delay the big broadcast? Something twisted in the pit of her stomach. What if Sarah still had a thing for Bob? What if—

  Bob hurried into the EVA locker room. His eyes looked red and puffy.

  “Bob, are you all right? What happened?”

  Kennedy stormed into the chamber. “Okay, Bob, Nate wants you ready by eleven-forty.” He spent the next fifteen minutes stuffing Bob into his suit.

  “Bob, are you okay?” Valkerie caught his eye and smiled.

  “Fine.” Bob shrugged and let Kennedy fasten his suit at the waist.

  Nate’s voice sounded in Valkerie’s Snoopy cap and started running through the flags-and-footprints routine while Bob went through prebreathing. Valkerie tried to catch Bob’s eye. What was wrong with him? What had Sarah said? Surely he wasn’t still in—

  “All right, boys and girls,” Nate’s voice growled in her ear. “Go earn us some gigabucks.”

  “And y’all remember to stay where I can see you from the window.” Kennedy stepped to his spot behind the camera. “Nate says if we don’t keep the TV people happy, we don’t get to go back home.”

  Bob hefted his shoulder-mounted minicam. “We’ll be fine, Hampster.”

  Valkerie waved to Lex. “We’ll bring back lots of rocks.”

  Lex smiled weakly and lay back on the couch.

  Valkerie stood up, clutching at her ribs.

  Bob stepped to her side. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “But you’ll need to hammer in the flag.”

  “Okay, we’re ready to roll.” Bob switched Valkerie’s comm link to the broadcast channel, then toggled his own to the same. “Bob, comm check.”

  “Valkerie, comm check.”

  They moved toward the airlock.

  “Loud and clear on both of you. We’re going live ... now.” Kennedy flipped a switch and adjusted his mike. “Okay, Houston, this is CDR Kennedy Hampton calling from Mars. MS1 Valkerie Jansen is stepping into the airlock followed by MS2 Bob Kaganovski ...”

  Bob closed the airlock and Valkerie punched the button. The needle swung slowly down to eight millibars, the ambient pressure outside. Valkerie turned and waved to the camera on Bob’s shoulder.

  She twisted the handle, swung the door open, and ... Mars! It hit her like a blast of cold water. Alien. Bizarre. Breathtakingly beautiful. A whole world for her to explore.

  “Dr. Jansen is now preparing to exit the Habitation Module,” Kennedy’s voice sounded in her head.

  Valkerie turned to make sure Bob was still behind her.

  He aimed the camera at her face and gave her a thumbs-up.

  Valkerie stepped slowly down the metal staircase to the bottom rung, mentally rehearsing the line NASA had sent her. It was horribly unimaginative, but Dr. Perez thought it was important and Valkerie just didn’t care to argue.

  She took a deep breath and stepped down onto the tan-colored dust.

  “That’s ... one small step for a woman—one giant leap for humankind.” Valkerie walked forward and turned to look at Bob. He was zooming the camera in on her footprint.

  Valkerie turned around in a small circle, scanning the boulder-strewn horizon. “This is ... incredible!”

  The Martian sky glowed amber through the tinted glass of her visor, painting the landscape with vivid clarity. The scattered rocks, the jutting ridge, the dusty sky, they were all so close, so solid. Real.

  Valkerie went through the flagpole ceremony in a daze. The telescoping flagpole, the stiff, horizontally supported flag, the disembodied blow-by-blow narration in her helmet—it was so artificial, so surreal against the stunning reality of the Martian surface.

  Valkerie picked up a rock and hefted it, suddenly overwhelmed by the vast di
stance they had traveled. She felt a tap on her shoulder.

  Bob pointed away from the Hab and motioned for her to follow.

  “Bob, what’s up? Do you see something?”

  Bob reached out and flipped a switch on her chest Display and Control Module. Comm suddenly went dead.

  “What did you do that for?” She held up her wrist mirror to locate her VOX switch.

  Bob held up his hand and switched off his own VOX. He motioned again for her to follow.

  Valkerie’s heart pounded in her throat. Was he out of his mind? Houston was going to have a fit. She followed him uneasily. It was his conversation with Sarah. It had to be. Sarah had said something on that private comm link—something that really upset him. Either that or—

  No. Valkerie stopped in her tracks and watched Bob continue forward with slow, hopping steps. He had told her he loved her. They had spent so much time together. Talking. Sharing. He couldn’t still be in love with Sarah. He hadn’t seen her in at least ten years.

  Bob stopped in the center of a circular formation of rocks and beckoned to her.

  Valkerie held her ground. After the comas, they had all been a little loose with the word love. She had even told Kennedy she loved him ... Had Bob meant it in the same way?

  Bob lowered his videocam and began waving wildly at her.

  Swallowing back a huge lump in her throat, she walked slowly toward him. This is crazy.

  When she reached him, he leaned over and touched his helmet to hers.

  “Bob, what in the world do you think you’re doing?” she hissed. “Six billion people are watching us.”