Oxygen Series Box Set: A Science Fiction Suspense Box Set

by John Olson

  “Now that we have enough food ...” Lex let the suggestion hang.

  Bob’s throat and mouth felt suddenly dry. “I feel sick.”

  “I do too,” Valkerie said.

  “No, you don’t understand.” Bob put a hand to his burning forehead. “I feel sick. Really sick.”

  * * *

  Friday, May 1, 11:15 a.m., Mars Local Time

  Bob

  Bob checked his watch. “Five minutes till your report to Houston.” He drummed his fingers on his kneecaps.

  “Would you relax?” Lex came back from the galley with another tube of pudding. She hadn’t stopped eating since they’d returned in the rover. “Come on. Cheer up! You two look like you’re getting ready for your own funerals.”

  “Mmphhh!” A noise from down the hall. Kennedy’s room.

  “Not again.” Lex didn’t hide her disgust. “I’ll see what the big baby wants this time.” She turned and disappeared into the corridor.

  Bob laughed. “Looks like Lex is getting back to normal.”

  “Looks like.”

  Bob was struck by the hollowness in Valkerie’s voice. She sounded so tired, so distant. He twisted around in his hanging chair to face her. “Don’t worry. They’ll let us come home. Once you tell them how well I’m responding to the ceftriaxone, they won’t give it a second thought.”

  Valkerie reached across the gap that separated them and felt his forehead for what must have been the twentieth time that morning. “I still can’t believe how fast it brought your fever down.”

  “I’ve got a good doctor.” Bob tipped his head back so that her hand slid down over his eyes.

  “We caught it early.” Tingling fingertips traced down the side of his face, sending an avalanche of chills down his spine. When he opened his eyes she was staring into space.

  “We’ll be fine. Just tell them about the antibiotics.”

  Valkerie’s face clouded. “That’s not what I’m worried about. Okay, maybe a little. I admit I feel terrible about not telling the truth earlier, but have you thought about the effect our announcement is going to have on people?”

  Bob grinned. Life on Mars. Not some petrified Mars snot from a billion years ago. Living cells right now—on a planet supposedly dead. It was the biggest discovery of the twenty‑first century. The consequences were staggering. Valkerie would get the Nobel Prize.

  “Bob, this is serious. Some people are going to be really hurt by this. Remember those protesters back at JSC?” Her eyes gleamed. “They’ve been telling people for years that there can’t be life on Mars. They’ve bet their faith on it.”

  “What’s the big deal?” Bob shrugged. “They weren’t bothered when you found thermophilic bacteria in volcanoes and hot springs. They don’t seem to mind desiccation‑resistant bugs in Antarctic ice.”

  “But this is Mars. It’s a whole different planet—in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “So?”

  “So, I don’t want to be monkey‑trialed. Ostracized. I don’t want to be—”

  “Valkerie, nobody’s going to ostracize you. Most people get it. They’ll say hallelujah, look what God created on Mars. They know life is robust. Just like faith. It’s hardy. It’s diverse. It flourishes in strange places. That’s its nature. People know that. And you’re a role model for that kind of attitude. People know where you stand. They know you’re not out to destroy anyone’s faith. You’re not going to hurt anyone. These are one‑celled bacteria you’ve found, not the missing link. Does the Bible say there’s no life on Mars?”

  Valkerie shook her head.

  “Just like it doesn’t say Earth is flat or pi is exactly 3,” Bob said. “Some people see what they want to see in the Bible, even if it’s a stretch, even if it’s not actually there, and they’ll argue themselves silly. They’ll paint themselves down the hallway and through the kitchen and right into a corner. But then when the facts turn out otherwise, hey—most people go with the facts and readjust their interpretations. Truth is robust too.”

  He patted Valkerie’s hand. “You’re not going to destroy anybody’s faith. People trust you to tell the truth.”

  Valkerie looked down at the floor. “Like I told Houston the instant we found the bug?”

  “Like you’re going to tell them right now.”

  “Time to rock and roll.” Lex swept into the room and grabbed the mike off the transmitter. “Houston, this is CDR from the Ares 7. Stand by for a very important announcement.” Lex held the mike out to Valkerie.

  Valkerie took the mike and swallowed hard. “Houston, this is Valkerie Jansen reporting from the Ares 7. Several weeks ago, we discovered evidence for a halobacteria that once lived here on Mars. Shortly after that discovery, we found a piece of dried clay pressed into one of the joints of my EVA suit. That clay housed an extraordinary guest....”

  Bob listened to Valkerie’s broadcast with a huge grin splitting his cheeks. She was perfect, of course. Just the facts. Mars harbored at least one species of real, living bacteria. It appeared to be genetically related to life on Earth. The bacteria was close enough to Earth’s Tree of Life to cause infections in humans—a major scientific surprise that strongly suggested a common origin. The transmission vector for the disease appeared to be in water droplets—probably inhaled by the crew members when they sprayed off their suits. Just like Legionnaires’ disease.

  Bob’s mind drifted as Valkerie started to get more technical. It wouldn’t be long now. He slipped out of his chair and began pacing the floor. His palms were already sweaty and his throat was dry. If Josh didn’t follow through on the instructions, Bob was going to make a red‑giant‑sized fool of himself.

  “ ... should give us many valuable clues into the history of life in our solar system. Standing by for your response. Over.”

  Bob took the microphone from Valkerie and hit the Transmit button. “Just a second. Josh, this is Bob. Could you transfer me to that private line now?”

  Valkerie and Lex exchanged questioning glances.

  “Uh ... this is kind of private,” Bob nodded to Lex. “Mind waiting downstairs for a few minutes?”

  A broad smile split Lex’s face. “No problem, Sir Bob de Gallante.”

  “What?” Valkerie fixed a puzzled look on Bob.

  “Come on, Val.” Lex dragged her to the stairwell. “This could take a while. Sir Bob hasn’t quite figured out what century we’re in.”

  Bob waited until the hatch shut behind them, then keyed the microphone. Josh had had plenty of time to set up the transfer. A lot was riding on this. He hoped he hadn’t made a mistake. “Hello, Mr. Jansen. This is Bob Kaganovski. I know we haven’t really met yet, but I’ve heard a lot about you.” I sound like an idiot. Get to the point. “Anyway, uh, Valkerie and I have been spending a lot of time together and we’re ...”

  Bob felt panic rising in his throat.

  “Uh ... we’re in ... love, and ... and I’d like to ask your permission for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

  Bob took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I know how much you’re wanting to walk Valkerie down the aisle ... I mean, I sure would if I had a daughter. But ... well, I ... we are hoping to, if you agree, get married here on Mars. It’s such a long flight back to Earth and, well ... and I guess that’s all. I hope you’ll say yes, but if you don’t, I’ll respect your wishes.”

  Bob set the microphone down on the transmitter and sank back into a chair. The radio transit time was almost twenty minutes. Each way. Which meant he’d be sweating bricks for the next forty minutes. And either he or Mr. Jansen was going to be one very disappointed puppy.

  * * *

  Saturday, May 2, 12:00 p.m., Mars Local Time

  Valkerie

  “Kennedy?” Valkerie knocked on the open door to Kennedy’s room. “Time for your medicine.”

  A raspy wheeze issued from the room. The sound of a dragon asleep in his lair.

  Valkerie backed away from the door. She could come back later. Maybe whe
n Lex was awake.

  The breathing stopped. “Valkerie, is that you?”

  Great, he’d heard her. She turned a desperate glance toward Lex’s door.

  “Valkerie?” The brittle tone in Kennedy’s voice brought her up short. He sounded frightened.

  “It’s okay, Kennedy. It’s just me.”

  No response.

  “Are you okay?” Valkerie took a deep breath and moved cautiously to his door. “I just came to give you some medicine. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” She poked her head in the room and found Kennedy lying in bed, clasping his covers to his chin.

  “Afraid?” A mask of easy confidence dropped onto his face. He smoothed the blankets down on his bed. “Who said anything about being afraid?”

  “Kennedy, the time for pretending is over. We know all about your ... problem.” Valkerie handed him a tablet and a glass of water. “You have a delusional disorder, don’t you? Paranoid subtype?”

  Kennedy eyed her suspiciously.

  “Kennedy, you can trust us. We aren’t going to hurt you.”

  “Maybe you won’t, but Lex—”

  “Lex won’t either,” Valkerie said. “Think about all we’ve been through together. Remember who took care of you while you were sick? Remember who repaired the Hab? Who took care of you when you were in a coma? Don’t you think if we were going to hurt you, we would have done it by now?”

  “But ...” Kennedy’s eyes clamped shut. His face contorted in an agony of conflicting emotions.

  “Kennedy, we aren’t going to hurt you.” Valkerie placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder. “We ... love you.”

  Kennedy’s shoulders started jerking up and down. “I never meant to ...”

  “It’s okay. Let it out. You can trust us.”

  Silent tears ran down his face. “It’s just that ... that ... everything’s so mixed up. I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

  “Yes, you do. Just remember your condition.”

  “But ...” He buried his face in his hands.

  “Kennedy, you have a delusional disorder. You can live with that. Knowing it and accepting it is half the battle.”

  “But the noises ... the fire ...” Kennedy looked up at her with wild, beseeching eyes. “If Bob and Lex didn’t attack me in the Ares 10, who did?”

  Valkerie hesitated. Should she tell him? Or would it only make things worse to have his fears confirmed? No, she had to tell him the truth. Like she’d finally done with Houston. “Kennedy, we heard from Houston yesterday. Someone on the ground, the Gold Team EECOM, tried to de‑orbit the ERV, but they caught her before she succeeded. Apparently she was worried about us bringing back the disease. We think she used the rover to attack you in the Ares 10.”

  A broad smile lit Kennedy’s tearstained face. “I knew I wasn’t crazy.”

  “Maybe not.” Valkerie couldn’t help laughing. “Bob and I think EECOM figured out how to control our robots without using the DSN—either that or there’s an awfully big Martian out there with six chips on his shoulders. Anyway, I checked the height of the CamBot against the bruises on my legs. It was a perfect match. EECOM was probably just trying to uncover what we were hiding from them. Anyway, that explains the broken Petri dish and ... lots of things. We think she drove the MuleBot over to the MAV during the dust storm and took some whacks at it. A strut got bent on it, and we saw some scratches on the MAV. And she must have been the one who stole the rover.”

  Kennedy wiped his eyes with a blanket. “I knew it. I could feel it in my gut.”

  “This time your gut was right.” Valkerie looked him in the eye. “Next time it might not be. Just promise me one thing. Next time you start worrying, check it out with one of us first. You have to go with the facts. And listen to people who care about you. Because your gut is the one thing you can’t trust.”

  “I know, I know. I’ve read the books.” Kennedy sighed. “But I couldn’t tell anybody before, don’t you see? If the flight docs found out about it, I’d have been off the mission. Call me paranoid, but they really were out to get me.”

  “Out to protect you. Out to protect all of us.” Valkerie shook her head. “If you really thought they were after you, why’d you stay in the astronaut corps? Why not go into a safer profession?”

  “I’m not afraid of danger. I just don’t trust people. I was the best fighter jock in my wing. The other jocks thought I was crazy. I flew stunts even the instructors wouldn’t try. But I learned to watch my back, that’s all. Checked up on the mechanics’ sloppy work. Never flew a plane without having the design checked and rechecked by other engineers. You’d be amazed what engineering students can find if you give them a spec and tell them there’s a mistake hidden in it.”

  Valkerie nodded. The leak of the Ares 10 schematics Bob and Josh had been so worried about. This explained a lot. Kennedy didn’t trust NASA engineers, so he found some young‑and‑hungries to check their work.

  “That’s why I’m such a good mechanic.” Kennedy smiled. “Self‑taught, mostly.”

  “Good mechanic?” Bob poked his head into the room. “You drive a Honda. What kind of mechanic drives a Honda?”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” Valkerie scolded. “Now shoo!”

  “I’m feeling fine.” Bob stepped into the room and let Valkerie feel his forehead. “See? No fever.” He put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her gently on the top of the head.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Kennedy’s eyes narrowing. “Um ... Kennedy.” Valkerie pulled Bob around to face Kennedy. “Bob and I have a big favor to ask.”

  Kennedy went suddenly tense. He studied Bob through tiny slits.

  “Oh yeah. That’s right.” Bob looked at the ground and shuffled his feet. “Uh ... Valkerie and I are getting married. And I want you to be the best man. Here on Mars, that is. And Valkerie wants you to give the bride away.”

  “I’d be—” Kennedy’s grin melted into a frown.

  “It’s okay.” Valkerie moved to the side of his bed. “Lex will be the matron of honor, and Josh will be the best man on Earth. You’ll do fine.”

  “Valkerie ... know how you said to tell you if I ever got worried?” Kennedy studied his bleeding fingernails. “Well, I’m worried now.”

  “Why?” Valkerie knelt beside him and put a hand on his arm.

  “As best man it’s my responsibility to throw the bachelor party, and ... how am I supposed to do that without chips and beer?”

  * * *

  Wednesday, May 6, 1:00 p.m., CST

  Nate

  “Thanks for the good word, Crystal. Talk to you later. Josh and I are going flying this afternoon in a real plane.” Nate put his phone away and grinned at Josh. “That’ll put the fear of God in her. She hates ultralights.”

  “What’s going on with Margaret?”

  “Who?”

  “EECOM.” Josh smiled.

  “The word is that, thanks to your outstanding help in bringing in EECOM, there isn’t a lot of pressure from the justice system to nail your sorry hide to the wall. You are gonna face charges, but you’re looking at a couple years in minimum security, worst case. As for EECOM, she denies everything—even the crush on you. Insists she never saw that DVD or CD, says she’s innocent, blah, blah, blah. Any more righteousness and they’d elect her president. She even refuses to get a lawyer. But Crystal’s team got a warrant and opened her apartment up. Place is immaculate, and she’s got about three full scrapbooks with guess who’s picture on every page.”

  Josh’s face turned red. “I had no idea she was so ...”

  “You did too, and you enjoyed it.” Nate shook his head. “You’re good at being a celebrity, Josh. Nothing to be ashamed of. You’ll be an old coot like me soon enough.”

  “You’re not a coot.”

  “What am I?”

  “A ... codger. A curmudgeon.” Josh gave him a fifty‑carat smile. “Cathe says you’re nothing but a big old teddy bear.”

  “You ser
ious about her?”

  Josh shrugged. “I like her. A lot. After my legal thing gets settled, if she’s still around, we’ll see what happens.”

  “Don’t be in any rush to give her a ring,” Nate said. “George Carlin used to say that the shortest sentence in the English language is ‘I am.’ Whereas the longest sentence is ‘I do.’”

  Josh snorted. “The voice of experience?”

  Nate looked out the window of the JSC cafeteria. He’d been married for fifteen years once, but it turned out his real love was space. His wife gave him a choice one day, and it was no choice at all. Which wasn’t the answer she was expecting, but life was full of surprises, wasn’t it?

  “Hey. Sorry.”

  “Skip it.” Nate drained his bottle of Snapple. “Speaking of the chains that bind, I hear you’re going to be an accomplice for Bob and Valkerie when they commit matrimony.”

  “I don’t deserve it.” Josh picked up the little paper tube that his straw had come in and knotted it around his forefinger.

  “Don’t give me that,” Nate said. “You made a mistake. I made a bunch. So did they. Every one of us meant well, and it all worked out in the wash. We squeaked through, and we’re gonna finish this mission. You know what they say. All’s well that ends without a pox on your house.”

  Josh just looked at him. “I bet you have to work pretty hard to mix up your Shakespeare that bad.”

  “Shakespeare?” Nate shook his head. “Never read him. I tried once, but the guy used clichés like they were going out of business.”

  Josh stood up. “Let’s go check in on the kids in the FCR and then get over to this rinky‑dink little airport of yours.”

  Nate grabbed his tray and headed for the trash can. “Who’s holding the fort today?”

  “Cathe’s on the EECOM console and Jake Hunter’s Flight Director for the afternoon. The rest is the usual cast of suspects.”

  Outside, Nate blinked against the May sun. It had been an awful spring. Worse than awful. But now he had his crew back together. Lex, firmly in command. Kennedy, back from the dead and behaving himself about as well as most dead people. Bob and Valkerie doing the matrimony thing this coming Saturday—and the TV rights for that were gonna pay a lot of bills. The crew now had enough food to last them for weeks, and their fuel supplies were getting replenished.