by Joe Vasicek
The corridor bent slightly to the right, so that she could never see more than a few dozen feet in front of her. That, more than anything else, set her on edge. She would hear footsteps up ahead, and moments later the person would be right on top of her. They passed several people this way, and each time, Kyla had to suppress the urge to run.
Flashbacks from the rescue kept popping into her mind. The rattling of a noisy ventilator sounded like gunfire, the laughter of a small group of friends like the wailing of those who were shot and wounded. She shut her eyes and could see the loading cranes swinging like monstrous claws, smashing people left and right. Above all else, she could hear James shout:
No one gets left behind!
“Kyla?”
They’d arrived at the room on the ship where James’s parents were staying. Jessica’s eyes lit up from the other side of the doorway, and she rushed over to Kyla with open arms.
“Kyla, it’s you! Oh, thank God—we thought we’d lost you!”
“Found her hiding in an empty EVA suit locker out by the main airlock,” said the man. “She seems a bit shaken, but I think she’ll be all right.”
“Thanks, Don,” said James’s father. “We appreciate you looking out for us.”
“Hey, we’ve all got to watch out for each other now,” said the man. “After all, we’re on the same starship.”
After a little more small talk, the man parted ways and left the three of them alone. Jessica led Kyla into their quarters, which were just as drab as the rest of the ship but small enough to still feel cozy. The only piece of furniture in the main room was a military cot in the corner. Kyla sat down on it and curled up.
“Are you all right, dear?” Jessica asked as she sat down next to her. “We were worried about you.”
“Where’s James?” she asked.
“James is busy with his command,” said Adam. “We probably won’t see him for a while. He’s staying in separate quarters, too, up closer to the bridge.”
Kyla had no idea where the bridge was supposed to be. He might as well have told her that James was on the other side of the universe.
“You’re safe now, dear,” said Jessica, rubbing her back. “It’s okay.”
“Are you sure?” Kyla asked.
“Positive, dear.”
“The pirates can’t get to us anymore,” said Adam. “We left them far, far behind us. Soon, we’ll be safe in the nebula.”
“The nebula?”
“That’s right,” Adam continued. “The only ships that can travel through the nebula at all are sublight ramjets like ours. No one can jump in, and no one can jump out.”
Once again, his words went right over Kyla’s head. At least Jessica’s touch gave her some comfort, though. She sat perfectly still, listening to the hum of the ship.
“It was a brave thing you did, dear,” said Jessica. “Offering yourself up like that.”
Kyla shrugged. “It seemed like the right thing to do.”
“A lot of people wonder if James did the right thing by going back for you,” Adam grunted. “Many lives were lost in the rescue attempt.”
“Kyla is safe now, and that’s all that matters,” Jessica snapped at him.
Did I deserve to be rescued more than those people deserved to live? Kyla wondered. The question made her shudder.
“It’s not your fault that those people died,” Jessica said, as if reading her mind. “You’re our future, dear. Of course it was right to rescue you.”
The absurdity made Kyla laugh. Only a couple of months ago, she wouldn’t have batted an eye at the fact that so many people had died. Back then, survival was the only thing that had mattered to her. Then James had given her a second chance, and everything had changed. It wasn’t just about survival anymore. Now, things like love and self-worth mattered far more, and she couldn’t give them up even if she had to.
Jessica gave her a hug, dispelling her darkest thoughts. It was good to feel loved—good to know that she was valued.
“We’re safe now,” Jessica said. “James will see to that.”
Yes, Kyla thought silently. I’m sure he will.
* * * * *
“How long until we know that we’ll make it?” James asked.
Sterling sighed and shrugged his shoulders. His eyes were droopy and bloodshot with dark bags beneath them.
“I don’t know, Commander. We’re working as hard as we can.”
“The fuel problem isn’t going to kill us, is it?” James asked, ignoring his own exhaustion. “I mean, if you can process collected hydrogen for the thrusters, we should be able to make our own fuel.”
“That depends,” said Sterling. “There’s not going to be much hydrogen until we pass through the termination shock, and we don’t have enough fuel to carry us through. If the drag slows us down before we’ve collected enough, we could end up drifting without a way to jump start the ramjets.”
James groaned. “What about the oxygen levels? Are the life support systems fully operational yet?”
“Almost. There are still some problems, but nothing we can’t fix.”
“And the fabber? If our parts inventory is all but nonexistent, we’re going to need to get that up and running right away.”
“That’s going to be tricky,” said Sterling, rubbing his eyes. “The fabber’s been completely cannibalized. I might be able to rig something with what we have, but for the next few months our production options are going to be extremely limited.”
James frowned. “Limited how?”
“Well, complex electronics are out of the question. Unless we manage to—”
“Never mind that, what about the aquaponics modules? Can you get them online?”
“I don’t know. Not for the next month, at least.”
James clenched his fist and slammed it against the wall. He turned and looked out the porthole window. The starfield shimmered with the hazy purple hues of the nebula, tantalizing them with the promise of plentiful hydrogen. Even with the ship’s hyperfusion engines running at full throttle, it would take weeks before they crossed Zeta Nabat’s termination shock into that hydrogen-rich area of space—and by then they’d already be out of food and fuel, with over eight hundred hungry mouths to feed.
“At least the cryotanks are operational,” he muttered. “We should put as many people into cryofreeze as we can, and then—”
“And then make it easier for you to control the rest of them,” came a voice from behind. James turned and saw Lars standing in the doorway, his face a picture of barely-controlled rage.
“What are you talking about?” said James. “I would never—”
“You play with our lives as if we’re pawns on a chess board,” said Lars, folding his arms. “Do you realize that rescue attempt of yours could have all gotten us all killed?”
“But it didn’t. We’re here.”
“Yeah, and fifty-five people are dead because of you—not to speak of all the people at Zeta Nabat who will die at the hands of that super-intelligence you released.”
James took a deep breath before answering. “I did what I had to do, Lars. Did you expect me to just sit by while the Nabattans kidnapped those girls? As captain of this ship, it’s my obligation to see that everyone is safe.”
“You have an obligation to preserve our freedom, too,” said Lars. “Those girls willingly sacrificed themselves so that the rest of us could live. It was their choice—and you took that away from them.”
James narrowed his eyes. “No one gets left behind on my watch. No one.”
“You speak as if this is a military ship,” said Lars, his eyes dark with rage. “As if your fellow citizens are your troops, here to follow your every command. That’s not democracy, James—that’s despotism. And if you don’t step down and start letting the people govern themselves, you’re going to destroy everything that we stand for.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because we’re in t
he middle of a crisis right now!” said James. “We barely have enough fuel to get the ramjets running, our food stores are critically low, the life support systems are in disrepair, and the fabbers can’t even make a damn wrench!”
“Then maybe we shouldn’t make this voyage,” said Lars. “Maybe we should turn around and go somewhere else.”
“Like where?” James asked. “Do you think the Nabattans would—”
“Put it to a vote. Let the people decide.”
James drew in a sharp breath through his teeth. The stress was making his whole body shake—any more, and he wouldn’t be able to think straight.
“Are you with me or not, Lars?”
“I am and always have been a servant of the people. If you truly side with the people, then I’m your friend. But if you try to set up a dictatorship, you’ll quickly find that I’m your worst enemy.”
“I’m not going to ‘set up a dictatorship,’ Lars,” James said, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. “As soon as this crisis has passed, I’ll go straight into cryo.”
“And while you’re in cryo, you know what I’ll do?” said Lars. “I’ll take this godforsaken derelict and build the strongest democracy in the history of humanity—so strong that when you awake, you won’t find a single soul to support your authoritarian schemes.”
As James listened, a wave of unbearable sadness washed over him. From the passionate light in Lars’s face, he knew that even if they survived this crisis, their friendship would never be what it had once been.
“I’ll take that under consideration,” he muttered, not able to look Lars in the eye. “Thank you.”
Lars glared at him, as if contemplating his final barb. Instead, he turned and left without another word. Somehow, that was even worse.
* * * * *
Sara couldn’t sleep. The drab, empty room that served as her sleeping quarters felt lonelier than she could bear. Through the tiny porthole window, the ghostly orange light of the nebula cast eerie shadows across the floor. The incessant hum through the ship’s narrow bulkheads made her feel as if she were in a medical bay, and the stiffness of her cot didn’t help.
I can’t stand another minute of this, she decided, sitting up on her tiny fold-out cot. I have to get out—I have to know that I’m not alone.
James.
All at once, the longing hit her like a knife wound in the gut. They’d been together for more than a month now, but the only real moments of intimacy that they’d shared had been those short, brief kisses between other pressing engagements. What if the colony ship failed, and they both died before they could take the relationship any further? What if she only had days before she was separated from him forever?
She rose from her bed and pulled a shawl over her loose nightgown. Her feet pattered on the cold tile floor as she raced down the corridor to James’s quarters. The lights on the ship had been dimmed to help the colonists sleep, so she guided herself by running her fingers along the wall. The moment she found his door, she pounded on it with her fist.
The door hissed open, revealing a bleary-eyed James. He blinked, and the edge of his mouth curled up in a grin.
“Couldn’t sleep, eh?”
She rushed in and threw her arms around him. “James,” she said, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. Behind her, the door hissed shut.
At first, he seemed startled, but then he gently stroked her back. His touch felt like the first rays of dawn creeping up over the horizon of a barren planet, bringing life-giving warmth to displace the cold of night. She gripped the fabric of his shirt tightly with both fists, holding on as if never to let go.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice tinged with genuine concern.
“Hold me,” she said simply.
They stood in a tender embrace for several moments, until the longing was silenced and the loneliness numbed.
“Here,” said James, “let’s sit down.” He motioned to his cot, guiding her gingerly in the darkness. The soft light of the nebula gave his skin a sensual reddish glow. It made her want to run her hand through his hair and feel his lips caress her neck.
“What’s wrong, Sara? Tell me.”
“I couldn’t spend the nightshift alone,” she told him. “I just… I needed someone.”
I needed you.
He reached a hand behind her back and rubbed her shoulder. She tilted back her head, and he kissed her ever so lightly on the cheek. His breath was short, and his arms trembled.
“I’m here,” he whispered.
She took his hand and slipped it down her side until his arm was wrapped around her waist. With her other hand, she ran her fingers through his hair and pulled him down, pressing his lips against hers. He hesitated ever so slightly, as if something were holding him back.
The shawl fell to the floor, leaving her shoulders bare. She slipped a hand beneath his shirt and gently tugged it upward. He kissed her again, more passionately than before, but not as passionately as she wanted him to.
“I don’t know, Sara. I don’t think I’m ready.”
The yearning of her body grew to a fevered pitch. She tried again to pull off his shirt, but he resisted.
“Why?” she asked, panting with desire.
“I just…”
She ran her hands up across his shoulders and kissed him on the neck. Her body throbbed with a passion that refused to be denied.
“If not now, when?” she asked between kisses. “If not here, where?”
He took a deep breath, still holding back but not releasing her. She pulled his head down and pressed it against her bosom, the nightgown slipping as one of the straps fell off her shoulder. She made no move to pull it back on.
“Am I a monster, Sara?” he whispered as he gently caressed her.
“A monster?”
He lifted his head to look at her with his sad eyes. “Countless people are dead because of me: fifty-five colonists and God knows how many Nabattans. I—”
She silenced him by pressing a finger against his lips. It didn’t seem to help.
“What am I, Sara?”
Words failed her in that moment. She knew that he needed someone to console him, but what could she possibly say? If he was a monster, then what did that make her?
Instead, she pulled her nightgown over her head and tossed it on the floor. The look in his eyes as he gazed upon her naked breasts filled her with heady anticipation.
“Life is so short,” she said softly. “I want every second with you to count.”
She pulled his hands up to caress her, pressing them against her breasts. As she leaned forward for a kiss, his passion suddenly broke. He pulled off his shirt and laid her on her back, guiding her legs around him. The last of their clothes came off in a tangle by their feet as every inhibition broke down.
They made love as desperately as if it were their last time, not the first. And when they were finished and James collapsed in exhaustion beside her, she realized that he was weeping.
Chapter 19
“So we’ve solved the fuel problem?” James asked.
“Yep,” said Sterling. “The termination shock is a lot denser than we thought it would be. With all the hydrogen we’re collecting now, we should have no problem getting up to ramjet speeds.”
James leaned back in his chair on the ship’s bridge, relieved to hear that they wouldn’t be stranded. Out the porthole window, the starfield was nearly twice as cloudy as it had been only a couple weeks ago. Here, where the solar winds of Zeta Nabat met the magnificent plumes of the Good Hope nebula, a thick band of compressed hydrogen gas extended like the wave of a giant ship cutting through the starry sea. The excited hydrogen glowed faintly enough to be transparent but bright enough to cast the normally white stars in a distinctive orange hue. It was quite a stunning sight, made all the more beautiful by Sterling’s report.
“What about life support?”
“Fully operational,” Sterling answered. “We still need to make a few patches, but the
critical systems are all online.”
“And the aquaponics modules?”
“They’re coming along slower than expected, but they should start producing at a stable rate in the next few months. Once the fabber’s up and running, we should have plenty of food to feed the whole ship.”
James nodded. The fabber still needed a lot of work, but with most of the population frozen in cryo, at least the specter of a ship-wide famine no longer loomed over them. He sighed and settled back in his chair, relaxing for what felt like the first time in months.
“So the crisis is past.”
“Yeah, but there’s still a lot of work to do,” said Sterling, eyes glued to his holoscreen. “Our waste processing systems are totally shot, but with some modifications to the ship-wide plumbing system, we could reroute the vats to the…”
James closed his eyes as Sterling droned on. In some ways, it felt as if he were coming out of a bad dream. The last few dayshifts had passed in a high-stress blur, everything merging together in his mind. Now that they were coming out of crisis mode, though, all that was coming to an end.
Which meant that it was time to say goodbye.
“Good work, Chief,” he said after Sterling had finished with his report. “It sounds like you’ve got a handle on things. I’m sure you’ll do good work while I’m gone.”
Sterling’s eyes widened. “You mean you’re going into cryo soon?”
“Why not? My work here is finished.”
“But… but I thought…”
James rose to his feet and put a hand on Sterling’s shoulder. “I have every confidence in you, Chief Jones. The quality of your work is excellent. Whatever problems you face in turning this rickety old colony ship into a decent home, I’m sure you’ll rise to them.”
With a tear in his eye, Sterling stood up and gave him a salute. “Well, then, it’s been a privilege serving with you, sir.”
The privilege has been mine, James thought silently, a lump rising in his throat as he returned the salute. The privilege has been mine.