Oxygen Series Box Set: A Science Fiction Suspense Box Set

by John Olson

  Silence.

  Oh great. He swung the door open.

  Cathe slumped against the doorframe, looking at the floor.

  “Cathe, what’s wrong?” He stooped his head to look into her face.

  Her eyes were moist.

  A lump formed in his throat. “I’m sorry if I got personal back there. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just ... mad. Come in. Sit down.” He guided her to the chair in front of his desk and crouched on the floor beside her.

  Cathe blinked several times and looked him in the eye. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I know how bad it feels to be ganged up on.”

  “It’s okay. You didn’t—”

  “Please, I need to explain. Here you’ve been so nice to me, promoting me to the CATO console—and then I side against you the first chance I get. If I were you, I’d fire me.”

  “No, you’re fine. Everybody’s entitled to their own opinion.”

  “But I should at least explain mine.” Cathe paused, staring past him at the wall. “Remember I said my father died of pneumonia?”

  Josh nodded. “You’re going to tell me that’s caused by bacteria, right?”

  “In this case it was caused by a virus—the AIDS virus.” Cathe’s voice sounded dead. “They traced it back to his dentist. The jerk knew he was infected, but he didn’t even bother to wear gloves.”

  “I’m ... really sorry.” Josh almost placed a hand on her arm, but didn’t. She seemed like the kind of woman who didn’t like to be comforted.

  Cathe stared past Josh, at the pictures on his wall. He wondered which one she was looking at. The one of him and his father on their first camping trip? That was his favorite.

  “Ever think what the world would be like if AIDS had never happened? I keep asking myself that. What if I could have stopped the epidemic before it ever began? What price would I have paid?”

  Josh remained silent. You didn’t have to be a genius to know where this was headed.

  “I keep thinking. What if I had been my father’s dentist? To know that I was responsible for—” She buried her face in her hands and took a deep breath. When she looked up, there was fire in her eyes. “I’m sure Drs. Jansen and Ohta would rather die than know they were responsible for a new worldwide epidemic. Fevers of one hundred and four. Do you have any idea how many people the fever alone would kill? And who knows what the long‑term effects will be? Maybe the micrometeorite was carrying a virus too. Maybe something entirely new. People can carry the AIDS virus for years without even knowing it. Who knows what’s in the crew’s systems right now?”

  Josh shook his head. “The so‑called micrometeorite wasn’t carrying anything. The bacteria in the Ares 10 came from Earth.”

  “You don’t know that. We have to consider the possibility that—”

  “Cathe, I know.” Josh met her startled gaze head on. “For sure.” He wanted more than anything to tell somebody. No, he had to be honest with himself. He wanted to tell her. It was more than just needing to off‑load his burden. He needed her to know him for what he really was.

  “What’s wrong?” Cathe leaned forward, intoxicatingly close. The freshness of her hair surrounded him.

  “If I tell you something, will you promise not to ...” No. Josh shook his head. If he was going to trust her, well then he’d just have to trust her. But where to begin? He looked at her.

  She was watching him. Waiting.

  “When I was Ares 10 commander I did everything I could to make the mission succeed. Television interviews. Radio. Conferences. It was a full‑time job, but I could tell it wasn’t going to be enough. Don’t get me wrong. I love Americans, but they have the attention span of a gnat with ADD. And when the people lost interest, so did Congress. They cut our funding four times. It was clear they were going to snatch Mars away from us after the first mission—unless we found something spectacular.”

  He looked at her face for a long time. It might be the last time he could look at her without seeing reproach in her eyes. “About that time a friend doing research in Antarctica discovered a new type of bacteria that could survive almost anything. Extreme temperatures, freeze‑drying, radiation ... We tested everything—including its toxicity to humans. I injected a solution of it into myself—just to be sure. I thought I was doing the right thing ...”

  “It—it was you?” Cathe’s eyes went wide. “You planted the bomb?”

  It was several seconds before Josh could find his voice. “I know it was wrong—stupid. But I was obsessed with making the mission work. I thought I had to do something. We’d worked so hard. When I got bumped off the mission, I made a capsule of bacteria and attached it to one of the parachute lines. The pyro was for spreading the bacteria in the Martian atmosphere. It wasn’t supposed to go off until the chutes were released. You’ve got to believe me. I never dreamed it would go off in the solar‑panel bay. How could I have known that Bob would find the leads on a spacewalk?”

  “No wonder you were so upset,” Cathe said. “I’ve never seen anyone so determined in my life. I thought you were going to work yourself to death.”

  “It was my fault. I would have given my life to save them.” Josh lowered his eyes. “I’d still give my life to save them. I have to. Don’t you see? Nate and Frazier and the rest of them all think the ship is contaminated with some bugaboo from outer space. I have to turn myself in. If I don’t, they’re going to let the crew rot on Mars.”

  “But you could be fired. You might even go to jail.”

  Josh bowed his head. “I will be fired. And as for jail ... I deserve it. That and a whole lot more. I’d rather die than become your dad’s dentist, but how could I live with myself if I were the reason my friends were trapped on Mars?”

  Cathe slid off her chair and knelt in front of him. A hesitant hand slid around his neck, sending bolts of electricity up and down his spine. She pulled him forward slowly.

  He felt his eyes drifting shut ....

  “Wait a minute!” Her outburst brought him back to reality.

  She pulled away from him, but held his gaze. “You said the bacteria isn’t toxic. Are you sure?”

  Josh nodded.

  “Well, if it isn’t the bacteria that’s making the crew sick, then what is it?”

  “I wish I knew. But it had to come from Earth. I was hoping it would turn out to be food poisoning, but so far all the tests of the food containers have come up negative.”

  Cathe stared into space for several seconds. “Don’t tell them. Don’t you see? It’s not going to make any difference. If it’s not your bacteria making them sick, then they’ll have to assume it’s something else. Something from Mars.”

  “It’s not from Mars. It can’t be. The doctors are right about one thing. That halobacteria couldn’t have made them sick. So if it isn’t that, and it isn’t from the micrometeorite, then they must have picked up some kind of Earth bug. Maybe it’s Legionnaires’ disease after all. It’s something pretty bad, but it’s not going to back‑contaminate Earth, because it came from Earth in the first place. It’s all my fault that Nate thinks otherwise.”

  “You’ve got to get it through your head that you’re not responsible for this. It’s not your fault they’re sick. You’ve got to let go of this guilt‑trip thing you’ve got going. It isn’t logical.”

  “But I am guilty. I almost killed four people.”

  “Almost. But you never meant to hurt them, so how can you be guilty? What you did was meant to save NASA. You meant to save their lives. If it weren’t for you, they’d all be dead. They needed you. They still need you. If you want to help them, you’ve got to forgive yourself and move on. Okay?”

  Josh looked down at the floor.

  “Turning yourself in isn’t going to make any difference. Whatever they’ve caught doesn’t seem to be any of the usual bugs we already know about. If your bacteria isn’t causing the infection, it has to be something else—and that something else is looking more and more like it’s not of Earth orig
in. As far as bringing the crew back to Earth is concerned, there’s no difference between an infection from a micrometeorite and one from the planet Mars. So no talk of turning yourself in. Okay?”

  Josh nodded slowly, but not for the reason Cathe probably thought. He knew what he had to do. He would confess to the whole thing—the capsule, the bacteria, the pyro charge—everything. Everything except the fact that the bacteria wasn’t toxic. He would lose his job, but if he could convince Flight Med that the sickness was caused by bacteria from Earth, his friends would be able to come home. After twelve months of agony, he’d finally be able to live with himself. Even if it was life all alone and in prison.

  Josh’s phone rang. He grabbed it and put on a smile. “Good morning! This is Josh Bennett.”

  “Josh, it’s Nate. Lex just called in.”

  Josh sat up very straight in his chair. “And ... ?”

  “Valkerie’s had another hallucination and probably some sort of amnesia. I’m sorry, Josh. It doesn’t look good.”

  Josh stared at the wall for a long second.

  “Josh, you there?”

  “Nate.” Josh swallowed hard and closed his eyes against the silent plea in Cathe’s eyes. “Something’s come up and we need to talk. Right away if we can. You, me, ... and Perez.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Monday, March 23, 8:00 a.m., Mars Local Time

  Bob

  BOB WAITED IN THE AIRLOCK, watching the pressure gauge rise from eight millibars. Another pointless EVA. He’d just searched every square inch of the ground around the Ares 7. He’d even searched the Ares 10. The Hab they had made the trip to Mars in was stale and musty, but of course he hadn’t found anything. Most of their food was cached in the Ares 10, because they needed the work space in the Ares 7. If something had gotten into their food supplies ... But, no. No tracks, no tunnels, no discarded food packets, no sign of any life at all.

  Of course there wasn’t. How could there be?

  The pressure hit 1,006 millibars. Bob pulled the water‑spray hoses from the wall and started spraying off his suit. The sick feeling that had been sitting like a brick in his stomach all morning pushed its way up to his throat. Valkerie was much better now. Did it make sense to think she had hallucinated the whole thing? The noises, maybe. But she’d shown him the bruises on her legs. She couldn’t have gotten them from falling. And what about the scattered food packets? Something or someone did that, and it just wasn’t rational to think she had faked it all. Valkerie was a trustworthy person. Could it have been Kennedy? He sure as the devil wasn’t trustworthy, and his condition had been improving a lot lately. Maybe he’d snuck out of his room to ... to what? To scare them all out of their minds? And how could he have gotten out without Lex seeing him? Lex had been taking care of Kennedy all night.

  And how do you know that, Kaggo?

  He knew it because ... Lex said so.

  Is Lex trustworthy?

  Up till today, Bob would have said yes without hesitation. What possible motivation could she have for freaking out Valkerie, messing up the food, and scaring them all to death—especially now when Kennedy was sick?

  When Mission Commander Kennedy was sick.

  Lex was second in command on this mission.

  Bob shook his head. Nothing made any sense. Valkerie was the one who started the whole business. Her monster‑in‑the‑window stunt had put them all on edge for almost a week now. Maybe it was hypervigilance, as he’d feared. A natural enough reaction to stress and lack of sleep. If so, it made sense that they were all hallucinating. Maybe they were crossing a wide savannah and needed somebody to beat up on.

  A dark thought cast its shadow over Bob’s mind. Was he sure that he hadn’t scattered the food packets himself? Maybe when he was getting the Jell‑O? What if he was the one cracking up?

  Bob spun open the spoked wheel used to clamp shut the airlock door and stepped into the Hab. Lex stood rigid in the doorway of the EVA‑suit room, watching him—a length of steel pipe grasped tightly in her hands.

  Unclamping the clasps of his helmet, Bob twisted it to the side and lifted it off his head. “Peace, Earthling. I am Kaggo of Mars. I mean you no harm.”

  Lex’s face twisted into a half smile. “I, uh ... I just got off the radio with Josh. He sounded really weird. Something fishy is going down in Houston. They’re not telling us everything. I think Nate’s trying to pull a fast one on us again, but I can’t figure out what it is.”

  Bob nodded. And it’s always the untrustworthy person who doesn’t trust others.

  “So ... I was just wondering. Did you find anything?”

  “Of course not.” Bob took off his gloves, unsnapped the top half of his EVA suit from the pants, and sat down on the bench. “What’d you expect?”

  Lex shrugged. “You’re the one who went out to investigate. I told you there isn’t anything out there.”

  “Because Valkerie asked me to. Maybe the problem’s inside the Hab after all.”

  “So you suspect Kennedy? Believe me, I was watching him the whole time. He was asleep all night. There’s no way he could have gone out there.”

  Bob didn’t say anything.

  “I think Valkerie’s cracking up.” Lex looked over her shoulder. “If the same thing happens to Kennedy ...”

  You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Bob was surprised at the thought. He leaned forward, letting gravity assist him in getting off the top half of his EVA suit. What’s with me lately? Am I turning paranoid? If I can’t trust Lex—

  Lex’s voice startled him from his thoughts. “Kennedy was getting pretty weird last night. Talking in his sleep, having some dream involving a woman. I gathered she wasn’t enjoying the experience, but it didn’t sound like she had much choice.”

  Bob narrowed his eyes. “You know, last week when I tried to say something about the Hampster, you got all over my case.”

  Lex shook her head. “That was just your jealousy talking, pal. And it was before our two friends got the Mars Madness.”

  Mars Madness. The words sent a chill down his spine. He lay down on the floor and wiggled his legs up and out of the pants of his suit. Lex stood in the doorway, idly hefting the steel pipe in her hands. Bob hastily stood up and sat on the bench again. “Uh ... what’s the pipe for, Lex?”

  She flushed and started fidgeting with it, spinning it in her hands. Finally she shrugged. “You remember we promised Valkerie we were gonna try to find a way to lock the outside door.”

  “I’ll get that latch made. I just need to find a way to anchor it to the wall.”

  Lex shook her head. “While you were outside I went looking for a different solution. A simpler one. A stronger one.” Lex stepped to the airlock and wedged one end of the bar through the spokes of the wheel so that the other end jammed in the corner between the floor and the wall.

  Bob stepped toward the hatch and tried to turn the wheel. It wouldn’t budge. “So what are you so worried about? You’re the one who’s been saying we’re not exactly in a bad neighborhood.”

  “Just wanted to make sure we had a really solid way to lock the door—just in case we need it.” Lex shrugged and headed for the stairwell.

  Bob watched her until she was out of sight, then he turned back to the wheel and pushed against it with all his might. It wouldn’t turn. The hatch was locked up tighter than Fort Knox.

  He turned back toward the stairwell. Lex had been approaching the hatch when he opened it. If she had locked it while he was outside on the EVA ...

  What is wrong with me? I’m noiding out. Maybe I’ve got the Mars Madness too.

  * * *

  Monday, March 23, 11:00 a.m., CST

  Nate

  Nate leaned back in his chair, studying Steven Perez. “Are you doing all right, sir? Can I get you some coffee or anything?”

  Perez shook his head. “Nate, calm down. I’m not dead yet.” He fidgeted, then leaned forward. “Josh didn’t say what he wanted to talk about?”

  “Just
that it was very important and we both—” Nate’s phone rang. He scooped it up. “Yeah, Carol?”

  “Josh Bennett to see you, Mr. Harrington.”

  “He’s late.”

  “No, sir, he’s exactly on—”

  Nate dumped the phone on the cradle and stood up. Before he reached the door, it opened. Josh looked even worse than he had at the meeting. He had shaved badly this morning, and his eyes looked sunken—like he’d missed a few months of sleep. “Josh, you look, um ... great. Have a seat.”

  Josh shut the door, started to sit, then tugged on the door again. He slumped down on the chair next to Perez.

  Dead silence. Josh’s eyes were glued to his hands.

  Nate felt a rush of fear. No. Josh could not resign from this mission. If somebody in industry was trying to lure him away with a pot of gold—

  “Josh, what’s up?” Perez said.

  Josh swallowed hard. “I ... have something to say, and you’re not going to like it. You’re going to be very angry with me, and I deserve it. And I just want you to know before I say it, that I’m really sorry. Really, really sorry. I never expected it to turn out like it did, and—”

  “Josh.” Perez put an unsteady hand on Josh’s shoulder. “Everybody has to make their own decisions. Just tell us.”

  Nate’s fist clenched. No way was he going to let Josh leave NASA. The guy was just too good in too many ways. “Josh, listen, we’re not going to let you quit. I don’t care what they’re offering you—we’ll find a way to keep you happy, all right? We’re kind of limited in what we can pay, but—”

  Josh shook his head. “It isn’t about money. I ...”

  Nate leaned forward. If it wasn’t money, then he had a chance. Maybe not a good chance, but a fighting—

  “I really wanted the Ares mission to be a success.” Josh’s voice was hoarse, and he swallowed again.

  “It is a success,” Nate said. Sort of.

  “Just ... let me finish.” Josh leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and covered his face with his hands. “We all knew what it was going to take to make the mission really work. We had to find something big on Mars. Something so big it would light a fire here on Earth.”