Absolute Zero

by Phillip Tomasso

  “Exactly,” Weber said. “They spent three years finding parts and putting her together, and then one day, when it was all done, the two of them took it for a ride. They cruised around between the troposphere and stratosphere, you know space license requirements and all of that, but my father would tell me it was the best ship he’d ever been on. None flew better, ever.”

  “Did you and your dad ever build a ship together?”

  Weber pursed his lips. “We talked about it, but he died. The virus got him. He was one of the few people on Nova who became infected with the Earth disease. They had him quarantined on a medical wing. They wouldn’t even let me visit him. He spent his last months alive alone. We video chatted every day, but that wasn’t the same. Not to a ten-year-old kid, you know?”

  Erinne had no idea why this stranger was opening up. She thought it odd someone would be so forthcoming with someone they’d just met. Always keeping her own emotions guarded, even around D’Rukker, she wasn’t sure how she felt about the lieutenant’s unsolicited sharing. “That’s too bad,” she said.

  “It wasn’t easy. I always told myself, though, if I ever had a kid I’d do the same —find the shell of a machine and rebuild it with my child in my grandfather’s barn.”

  “Your grandfather’s still alive?”

  Weber shook his head. “No, no he’s not, but the farm is mine. He left it to my father, and my father left it to me.”

  “You have land on Earth?”

  “I do. I sometimes think about leaving Euphoric, leaving the Nebula Way Station, and going home. There are times where a simpler life just seems more appealing, you know?” he said.

  She knew. “But I like to fly.”

  “I’d like to re-build a fighter in my grandfather’s barn,” Weber said. “Maybe someday, if I meet the right one. Get married. Settle down. You know, have little guys running around. I think then I would want to build up a ship in that barn, but …”

  “But?”

  Weber waved a hand around. “I’m here. Middle of space. I chose a different life.”

  “You didn’t choose to stay on the farm?”

  “I enlisted. Military. Soon as I turned eighteen. I needed something … different.”

  “And what? Now those other dreams can’t happen?”

  “Euphoric has kind of a set policy on who can fly long-term space missions. Anyone with an immediate family is discouraged from even applying. Maybe I like flying too much, too. I don’t know.” And then after a moment of nothing, he added: “What happened there …?” He tapped a finger on his left arm and nodded his head toward hers.

  Erinne ignored him. She wasn’t playing this game, his game. You talk, I talk. It wasn’t going to work on her. Who did he think he was? This guy couldn’t just plop down next to her and ask all kinds of personal questions just because he’d told her some sentimental garbage about his father and grandfather working on an engine.

  “Another time, perhaps,” he said. “There!”

  Erinne almost jumped out of her seat.

  Weber was up and pointing out the front porthole. “The colony.”

  “I knew where the colony was,” she said, flying over the compound. On the second pass, she came in low, and slow. “Place looks deserted.”

  “We have to get in there.”

  “And the diamonds?”

  Weber spun around.

  Erinne didn’t need to turn. She’d heard Aroldis come on the bridge. “Should we land by the bay?”

  “Close as you can get,” D’Rukker said. “I want minimal exposure. I have no idea how many of those creatures are close by. Last thing is an attack as we break for the bay hatch.”

  “Understood. I could put us down so close our ramp will be like a red carpet to their front door,” she said.

  “And that is why you fly my ship!”

  “Bringing her around,” Erinne said, her hands doing different things on separate control panels. Toggles flipped, buttons depressed, levers pulled. “Lowering flaps. Reducing speeds.”

  “Watch out!” Weber gripped the dash.

  D’Rukker called out Erinne’s name.

  Erinne Cohn saw it. A geyser erupted in front of them. A thick spray shot into the air, clipping the right wing on the Cutlass. “Hold on,” Erinne shouted.

  It was too late. They were flying too slowly, too close to the surface.

  The Cutlass toppled, spiraling out of control.

  D’Rukker stumbled and fell, crashing onto the floor. The Cutlass hit the ground, and the power inside the ship flickered and shut off.

  “Erinne?” Weber said, spitting blood from his mouth, and then wiping his lips with the back of his sleeve. “Erinne?”

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  “Okay, we’re going to get out of here.” Commander Anara Meyers knelt beside the scientist. She held the woman’s hand. Sandra Carter kept nodding her head. Meyers couldn’t tell if Sandra understood, or if the woman was still in shock. It didn’t matter now. All that mattered was getting off the planet. All of them.

  “We can’t leave him though,” Sandra said.

  “Can’t leave who?” Meyers asked. “You said there was no one else on the compound.”

  “Calvin,” Sandra said, looking over her shoulder, eyes on the doors leading into the kitchen. “I can’t leave him.”

  “He’s gone, Sandra,” Meyers said. “There’s nothing we can do for him.”

  “Commander?” Ruiz said.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ve been trying to hail Lieutenant Weber. He’s not responding,” she said.

  First Captain Rivers wasn’t responding, now Lieutenant Weber. Her mind attempted to force away obvious thoughts. She couldn’t afford to dwell on what might have happened to them both. The mission had become worse than any nightmare she’d ever had. When she worried about failing her first time out on the Eclipse, this was never what she imagined. Telling herself that none of this was her fault didn’t help, not in the slightest. “We’re inside the compound. Transmissions are bound to be skewed.”

  It was a lie. She had no idea what the reception was like. Her job as commander was keeping everyone calm, cool, and level-headed. She couldn’t do that if she gave in to her own fears and fantasies.

  “Sandra, can you stand up?”

  “What about Calvin?”

  Meyers got nose to nose with the scientist. “We’ve gone over this, Sandra. Calvin is gone. We can’t do anything for him. Right now, we need to leave this area. We need to get back to the compound bay. There’s a shuttle in there. It is our only way off of Neptune. Do you understand me?”

  Sandra Carter was violently shaking. “We are going to get off of the planet?”

  “That’s right. I have a ship waiting for us in orbit. We’re leaving.”

  “We’re leaving.”

  Meyers still couldn’t tell if Sandra understood anything being said. The woman was simply repeating everything. It was close enough, she supposed. “Stanton, help her to her feet. Stick close to her, understood?”

  “Aye, Commander.”

  Meyers didn’t want to return the way they’d come, but the hatch door they’d sealed off was the quickest way back to the communications room. She only hoped the creatures had grown bored waiting and moved on.

  As long as Rivers was holding down the fort, they’d be able to send Mark Windsor word they’d soon be on their way and to keep an eye out for the returning shuttle. Meyers insisted on remaining optimistic. Rivers might not have answered their call for a multitude of reasons. “Ruiz, I want you on point. I am going to follow these two.”

  “Aye, Commander.” Ruiz swung her blaster around. She held the barrel in her left hand, her right around the grip, finger by the trigger. “Ready when you are, Commander.”

  Stanton had Sandra on her feet. “Captain?”

  “We’re good, Commander. We’re ready.”

  “Let’s do this, then. Let’s get back to the bay.” The commander readied her own blaster. She no
ticed the gauge. Her blaster was nearly out of energy. She needed a recharge pack. There wasn’t one. Without asking, she knew Ruiz and Stanton’s weapons would be in a similar situation. They were almost out of ammunition, and there was a lot of ground to cover.

  Optimistic.

  “Ruiz, lead the way.”

  _____

  They would need space suits. Soon.

  Lieutenant Marshall Weber had no idea how long life support on the Cutlass would last. It looked as if everything had shut down. They’d crashed hard. There could be a breach in the hull.

  Weber didn’t even want to think about that.

  A breach would mean he had even less time than he thought. And right now, he thought he might only have an hour or less before the breathable air was used up.

  He touched Erinne’s arm.

  She was breathing, but hadn’t moved. Her forehead was bleeding, but he couldn’t see more than a small gash. The head bled a lot. That was normal and not necessarily dangerous. It would depend how hard she hit and whether she suffered a concussion or not. The fact she still was out cold, however, was not a good sign.

  “Erinne? Hey,” he said, giving her shoulder a gentle nudge.

  She stirred. Eyes opened. Closed. Eyelids fluttered.

  “That’s good. You’re good,” he said. “Erinne?”

  “We crashed.”

  “That’s right. We crashed. Here, sit up,” he said, helping her back into her seat. He squatted down in front of her. “I want you to follow my finger with your eyes only. Okay? Don’t move your head.”

  “Good. I won’t. It feels like my head was just smashed with a boulder.”

  Weber removed a penlight from his belt. He flashed it toward, but not directly into Erinne’s eyes. Her pupils weren’t dilated and looked about the same size. They responded appropriately to light.

  “What are you looking for?” she asked.

  “Well. Thirty areas of the brain and most of the cranial nerves deal with your vision,” Weber explained, moving his finger past Erinne’s field of vision. Her eyes followed the finger. Her head stayed still. “You want the good news or the bad news?”

  “I don’t know—”

  “The good news your head should be okay. The bad news, this ship ain’t going anywhere anytime soon,” he said. “Sit still. I want to check on your captain.”

  “D’Rukker’s not my captain. We don’t operate that way. He’s my boss,” she said.

  “Well, let me check on your boss.” Weber’s sleeve had a rip in it. He made it larger and then tore a piece off, handing it over to Erinne. “Press this on your forehead. Apply pressure. Don’t keep lifting it off to see if you are still bleeding. Got it?”

  She nodded and touched the cloth to her wound.

  Weber reached up and pressed her hand hard against her own forehead. “Tight. Apply pressure.”

  “Okay, okay, I got it.”

  Weber scrambled toward D’Rukker. Same issue. Bump on his head. No blood. He must have knocked himself out. Head hit the wall.

  He used a finger and thumb to peel open one of D’Rukker’s eyes, shining a light next to the eyeball.

  The man’s eyes opened wide. His arms shot up. His large hands latched onto Weber’s wrist.

  “Whoa, man! Good reflexes.” Weber winced. “It’s okay! You’re okay.”

  There was a fraction of a second where Weber strongly suspected he was about to get punched, but then D’Rukker’s brow creased and softened. Confusion overcome by memories? “Erinne?”

  When D’Rukker released Weber’s wrists, Weber shook them to start circulation flowing again. “She’s fine.”

  “I’m right here, Aroldis.”

  D’Rukker moved Weber out of the way, sat up, and then stood up.

  Weber reached out with the intent of steadying the man, should his legs give, and he started toppling.

  No such thing happened.

  “Systems shut down,” Weber said. “I have no idea if there is a hull breach. We’re going to want to get into some spacesuits as soon as possible.”

  “I have to check on the rest of my crew.” D’Rukker touched the top of Erinne’s head, moving her hair aside.

  Erinne lifted the torn cloth off the wound to show her boss.

  “Hey,” Weber said. “Constant pressure.”

  She slapped the cloth back in place. “Owww. Sorry.”

  D’Rukker said, “You stay here. Run diagnostics. I need you to figure out what we’re working with, what’s broke, and what we can and cannot fix. Weber and I are going to check on the crew. We’ll be back with spacesuits if spacesuits are needed. I don’t want you to move. Are we clear?”

  “Crystal, Aroldis.”

  Chapter Fifty

  Captain Adam Stanton kept an eye on Ruiz’s back. He felt vulnerable helping Sandra Carter since his blaster was out of reach, slung across his back. It was almost as if he was naked or exposed, and he didn’t like it one bit.

  They had made it down the main passage without incident. At the hatch door they’d sealed, the four of them stopped.

  Stanton stared at the door. “They could be waiting on the other side for us,” he said, stating the obvious.

  Commander Meyers moved front and center. She let her blaster hang off the shoulder strap and grabbed onto the wheel lock. “If we go the other route, we might as well be miles away from Rivers. We’d have to circle around the entire compound before reaching the communications room again. That could take hours. There might be more of those things on the other side. We just don’t know.”

  But we know there were almost half a dozen on the opposite side of this hatch, Stanton thought. That much we do know. “I want you to stand over here, Sandra. You understand me? You stand right here.”

  With Sandra Carter out of the way, Stanton retrieved his blaster. It felt wonderful in his hands, as natural as if it were an extended part of his body. A fifth limb. “Commander, I’m low on a charge. I’ve got my sidearm, but that blaster doesn’t have half the power these rifles do. And these rifles blasters barely break skin on those things.”

  Ruiz twisted her blaster over in her hands and checked the gauge on her weapon. “Worse. Mine’s dead.” Ruiz tossed aside the blaster and unholstered her sidearm. “This will have to get ‘er done.”

  The commander just nodded. “Glad you double checked, Ruiz. Look, we’re just going to have to be conservative with our shots. Quality and not quantity this go-around,” she instructed.

  Stanton took three quick breaths as the commander began spinning the wheel lock counterclockwise. He felt as if he were getting ready to go underwater and knew the water was icy cold, that it would shock his system once submerged. He gritted his teeth. “Ready, Commander!”

  The latch clicked. The door was unlocked.

  The commander looked back at them. Stanton saw the anxiety on her expression. Her eyes were opened a little wider, her brows a bit arched, and her lips pulled thin as muscles in her mouth and neck stretched taut. She gave a silent count, numbered by slight bobs of her head. She pulled open the hatch door and jumped back as her hands re-secured her weapon.

  The three of them stood side-by-side, prepared to open fire, and …

  “They’re gone,” Ruiz said.

  The commander stepped forward. She checked beyond the threshold, left, and then right. “Clear,” she said.

  Stanton decided to leave his rifle blaster slung over his shoulder, conserving what energy the weapon had left, and drew his sidearm. It felt comfortable in his hands, but, like they’d said, the bolts were less powerful. He’d have to make do. “Come on.” Stanton guided the scientist, his left hand on the small of her back. “We are going to keep close with the others. No falling behind. You got that?”

  Sandra nodded.

  “Say it. I want to hear you say it.”

  “No falling behind.”

  “No falling behind,” Stanton said, affirming the statement. “We’ve got this. Okay? We’re getting out of here. W
e’re going home. Okay?”

  She nodded.

  “Say it.”

  “We’re getting out of here. We’re going home,” she said, a bit more conviction in her tone of voice. Might even have been a hint of confidence to boot.

  Stanton gave her a smile. “That’s right.”

  Ahead, the commander and Ruiz slowed. They were at a bend. If his memory served correctly, just beyond the bend was the communications room. And Danielle Rivers. She would be thrilled to see them.

  Meyers held up a fist. Ruiz and Stanton halted.

  Meyers checked around the corner. It was fast. Then she lowered herself onto a knee and checked a second time. Slower and more carefully. Standing up and facing the others, she said, “There are two down the hall. Just outside the communications room. I don’t know. They weren’t moving at all. I couldn’t tell if they were alive, dead, or sleeping.”

  Stanton took the news as good. “That means Rivers is safe behind a locked door. We need to get those things away from there. Or kill them. I’m okay with either. As long as we do something and get rid of them.”

  “Settle down, Captain,” Meyers said. “We’re on the same page. We’ve got an advantage right now. I don’t want to lose it. If those things are asleep, maybe we can get off kill shots without a fight.”

  “How do you propose we do that?” Ruiz wrinkled her nose and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Are we going to sneak up on them? Put a bolt in the back of their heads?”

  Meyers said, “That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

  Stanton raised a hand. He figured the commander would volunteer. She’d been taking point the entire time. “I’ll do it.”

  “I’ve got your back,” Ruiz said, two hands on the grip of her sidearm.

  “You wait here with the commander.” Stanton had a hand on her shoulder. Contact made her seem more responsive.

  The commander nodded, and Stanton moved forward. He took it slow. Small steps, edging his way down the hallway. He kept an eye on the immobile targets. If one of them so much as yawned, he was prepared to open fire.