Last Contact

by Samuel Best

  Riley slowly opened his eyes to look at Piper.

  “I can’t,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  She pulled herself closer to him as they fell toward the comet. Their face shields knocked together.

  Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes. She blinked and they drifted in front of her face, where they quickly evaporated.

  Piper turned to look at the comet, but Riley shook her arms.

  “You look at me,” he said firmly. “Piper, you look right at me.”

  He had never seen such fear as when she met his eyes.

  “I’m afraid.”

  “I know,” he said. She tried to look at the comet again. “Look at me. You’re a hero, do you understand? Everyone on Earth is going to live because of what you did.”

  “You did the same thing,” she said.

  Riley smiled. “I died on my first trip to Titan. I was already living on borrowed time. Me dying out here…that’s just tipping the scale back in the right direction. But what you did…you made a choice. A tough one. It was the right call. I don’t know anyone else who would have done it.”

  Piper nodded, then began to cry. He held her as close as he could through his spacesuit.

  “I’m so scared,” she whispered.

  “Me too. Just remember to look at me, okay? Don’t look at the light.”

  She nodded again.

  “I’ll be honest with you,” he continued. “It’s probably going to hurt. But after that…after that it’s not so bad.”

  She pressed her helmet into his chest.

  He looked past her.

  The comet filled his vision. He closed his eyes and it didn’t make a difference—it burned just as brightly.

  Squinting against the piercing light, Riley faced the comet. From his perspective, space had become an infinite canvas of burning blue. At the very heart of it, a sphere of plasma swelled into existence.

  The fission bomb had detonated.

  He held Piper close as they fell into the heart of the comet.

  24

  JEFF

  “The comet is accelerating,” said Erikson.

  He floated near the door of the airlock while Jeff began the process of taking off his spacesuit. Hideo disconnected the pack and secured it to the wall while Jeff pulled off his gloves one finger at a time.

  “We keep using the word ‘comet’,” Erikson continued, “which is obviously erroneous. Comets are ice and rock.”

  “Let’s worry about nomenclature later,” Jeff said. “When will it get here?”

  “Sandy is still going over the copious amounts of data in the latest transmission, but it looks like one of the three comets will impact Venus in less than six hours.”

  Jeff and Hideo froze and looked at Erikson.

  “Six hours,” he repeated.

  Hideo’s laugh started as a low chuckle deep in his chest. He smiled and shook his head, then grabbed a handhold on the wall of the airlock and bellowed laughter, one hand over his stomach.

  He sniffed abruptly and wiped away a tear. His face became somber once more as he floated around to the back of Jeff’s suit and began unfastening the insulating layers so Jeff could slip out.

  “Mercury will be hit within the hour,” Erikson added. He paused for a long moment while he studied Jeff. “Did you talk to the creature?”

  Jeff slipped out of the spacesuit and pulled off his thick socks.

  “Sandra needs to hear this, too.”

  The four of them gathered in the corridor of Venus Lab as Jeff relayed his experience with the creature. They listened intently, only interrupting to ask clarifying questions.

  “It wasn’t talking in the traditional sense,” said Jeff.

  “It definitely qualifies as communication,” Sandra told him.

  Erikson grunted. “Terraforming. It wants to live on Venus. On Venus!”

  “Its species came from a volatile planet,” Jeff said. “Volcanic. Primordial.”

  “Why send three comets?” Hideo asked. “Is it planning on terraforming Earth and Mercury as well?”

  “It would seem that way,” said Jeff. “The smaller comet that hit Earth is made of the same blue goop as the stuff I saw spreading over Venus when I was communicating with our big rocky friend out there. Kate said it changes the soil on a molecular level.”

  “Maybe more aliens are coming,” Sandra offered.

  “Or maybe it’s not putting all its eggs in one basket,” Hideo replied.

  Jeff frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Let’s assume it terraforms all three inner planets. That doesn’t mean they will all be perfectly suited for habitation. There will still be temperature differences based on their distance from the Sun. Each atmosphere would have to be individually tailored to provide the same living conditions on the surface.”

  Erikson scratched his cheek in frustration. “You’re saying it’s going to terraform three planets and pick the one it likes best?”

  “Given how difficult it was to bring just one of the aliens back from extinction,” said Jeff, “changing the atmospheres of three planets almost seems like it would be easier.”

  “There’s something I don’t understand,” Sandra said. “Well, a lot of things, but this in particular. Where did the comets come from?”

  “The alien homeworld?” Erikson offered.

  “Jeff said it was only born five years ago,” Hideo pointed out. “The comet is moving fast.”

  “I think,” Jeff said, “this is part of a plan that’s been in place for eons. The alien race constructed the tori when they knew they would go extinct. The tori searched for materials that would allow them to resurrect their own creators. The outpost we discovered on Titan was only one in a long chain of installations that served as a birth canal for the alien that emerged from Earth’s ocean five years ago. Despite recent events, this species seems content to work on a cosmic timeline of thousands and thousands of years…and maybe longer.”

  “Well,” Sandra said slowly, “we only have six hours. Let’s talk about our options.”

  “We could break orbit and move to a safe, observable distance,” said Erikson. “The Odyssey could pick us up on its way back to Earth.”

  “What if that ship is destroyed?” Hideo asked.

  “Now is not the time for pessimism, Tanaka-san.”

  Hideo shrugged. “It’s a valid question.”

  “Then two of us would be stranded until Earth sent another ship,” said Jeff.

  “And if there’s no Earth?” Erikson countered.

  “Let’s focus on what we have control over,” Sandra said. “We can move the station. We can leave the Seeker connected to the station for long range communication back home. If we survive the next six hours, then we can play ‘what if’. Deal?”

  They all looked at each other in silent agreement.

  Sandra clapped her hands and rubbed them together. “Great,” she said. “I’ll start crunching the numbers to get us out of orbit.”

  “I’ll pull the Seeker back to a safe distance while you maneuver,” Jeff said.

  “I will go over the data from Earth,” said Hideo as he drifted toward his supply room. “Maybe we missed something.”

  Erikson floated in the opposite direction of Hideo. “And I’ll run a systems check.”

  As Jeff turned to make his way toward the airlock, Sandra laid her hand gently on his forearm, stopping him.

  “In case I forgot to tell you earlier,” she said, “thank you for finding me.”

  Jeff smiled. “You’re very welcome.”

  Sandra cast a furtive glance at Hideo, then at Erikson. She lowered her voice and drifted closer.

  “Those two won’t ever admit it,” she said quietly, “but they’ve grown close during our time here. I feel like I’m the mother of two teenage boys sometimes, the way they fight. But I…I love them.” She squeezed Jeff’s forearm urgently. “And I want them to…if there was ever a choice between me or them, I would want them…to mak
e it home.” Sandra looked into Jeff’s eyes. “Do you understand?”

  He took her hands in his and gave them a comforting squeeze.

  “We’re all going home,” he told her.

  She smiled tightly and nodded quickly, then turned back to her workstation.

  Jeff sealed the airlock behind him as he drifted into the Seeker. He secured his Constellation-class spacesuit and strapped himself into the command chair.

  The control panel glowed to life under his touch, and he triggered the usual pre-flight diagnostics. Out of habit, he called up the communications interface, but there were no new messages waiting for him.

  Through the narrow cockpit window, he saw a sliver of the space station, and Venus beyond.

  All of our plans, he thought. All of our scrambling, all of our struggles…and the planets just continue to spin.

  He was supposed to be in near-Earth orbit working on the shipyards. He never wanted to go so far away again…so far from Kate. Maybe if there was time after he moved the ship away from the space station, he would send her a quick message.

  The control panel flashed green. Jeff initiated the undocking procedure.

  “Venus Lab, this is Seeker. I’m going to put some distance between us.”

  “Copy that, Seeker,” said Sandra. “We’ll be joining you shortly.”

  As Jeff reached for the controls to decouple from the space station, a little yellow message box popped up on the display. He tapped it, a smile growing hesitantly on his lips in anticipation of hearing Kate’s voice.

  “Jeffrey, we were wrong,” she said.

  His smile vanished.

  “We had estimates on the comet’s speed based on apparent size. Our sensors can’t see it so that’s all we had to go on. But we’ve analyzed the data sent back from Riley’s team on the Odyssey. Disregard our last message. By the time you get this, you’ll have an hour, probably even less—”

  The transmission cut out.

  Jeff tapped the comms button and the control panel flickered. The lights in the cockpit dimmed, then came back.

  A streak of vibrant blue shot past the cockpit window toward Venus. The cockpit lights flickered as another streak shot past.

  Comet debris, Jeff thought. Leading the big one.

  He slammed his fist on the comms button.

  “Everybody to the Seeker, now!” he yelled.

  25

  KATE

  The rigid inflatable dome was in tatters by the time Neesha drove Kate and Colonel Brighton to the other side of the impact crater. The half-moon ribs that arched over the pit were as white as bleached bone in the midday Sun. Shreds of coated nylon clung to the ribs, flapping like weathered flags in a light breeze.

  “Here,” Brighton said abruptly.

  Neesha slammed on the breaks and Kate’s hand flew up in front of her face to stop her forehead from banging on the dashboard.

  “Sorry,” Neesha offered, grinning sheepishly.

  “Back it up to the big green tent. Don’t stop until I say so,” Brighton told her.

  “Got it.”

  He popped the door open and jumped to the ground, motioning for Kate to follow.

  The air was warmer than it was on the outskirts of the camp. A sharp chemical smell assaulted Kate’s nostrils with each inhalation, burning her throat. She coughed until her eyes watered.

  “Take this,” said Brighton, offering a face mask.

  It was the flimsy kind worn by surgeons during procedures, but she graciously accepted it and pulled it down over her mouth and nose.

  The Colonel donned his and stepped back from the entrance of a large green canvas tent as Neesha swung the truck around and switched it into reverse.

  He guided her back until the rear bumper pushed against the entrance. She stopped, but he kept waving her back. She shrugged, then rolled into the tent, popping seams and crushing support poles.

  “Stop!” shouted Brighton, holding up his hands.

  The truck was just shy of halfway into (or on top of) the tent. The Colonel hurried around to the back and lowered the gate.

  “It’s on wheels, so at least that’s something,” he said as he jogged past Kate.

  She followed him to a part of the tent that hadn’t collapsed: a large cube draped in loose green canvas.

  Brighton flicked open a pocket knife and cut the fabric, walking around the cube shape until he could peel back the canvas to reveal what was beneath.

  At first glance, it looked like a large water tank. The exterior was some kind of plastic shell, with a single wide touchscreen affixed to one side. If it weren’t for the spray-painted skull-and-crossbones emblem over ominous stenciled letters which read EXPLOSIVES, Kate might have been fooled.

  “It’s a bomb,” she said in disbelief. “Now why am I not surprised?”

  “‘When in doubt, bomb it out’,” Brighton quoted. “Push from that side.”

  They got behind the massive explosive and shoved until its wheels unstuck and it rolled toward the bed of the transport truck.

  “You’re just going to spread that blue stuff all over the place,” Kate warned.

  She winced as the bomb hit the truck’s bumper with a loud thoommm.

  “Which should scatter the signal,” said Brighton. “We’ll drop it right into the pool at the bottom of the pit.”

  Kate paused as Brighton climbed up into the truck bed and began to unspool a thick cable from a winch.

  “Will that work?” she asked.

  “One way to find out,” he replied. “If we can trick it off course by even half a degree, we’ll survive. Why? You got other plans?”

  He handed her the hook at the end of the cable.

  “Just under the plastic shell, at the bottom,” he told her, pointing near the ground.

  Kate knelt down and felt under the shell. Her hand bumped a metal hoop, and she connected the cable.

  Brighton slid two ramps down from the back of the truck and grunted as he positioned the bomb’s wheels at the base of them.

  “What’s going on back there?!” Neesha shouted from the cab.

  “Loading now,” Brighton called back.

  He flipped a small switch next to the tailgate and the winch slowly drew the cable back into the truck. The line went taut and, with a groan, the cube-shaped bomb rolled up the ramps.

  Five minutes later, they were riding directly toward the pit, each of them casting the occasional worried glance at the bomb.

  Kate pulled down her mask and tested the air: better than when she was standing outside, but not by much. Neesha had tied a pocket scarf around the lower half of her face, giving her the appearance of a bandit who had just stolen the truck.

  “How far do we have to go after we drop it?” Kate asked.

  Brighton checked his watch. “As far as we can. Everyone else should be at a safe distance already.”

  “Won’t it blow up when it hits the bottom?” asked Neesha.

  “Or melt in the blue stuff?” Kate added.

  “No, and I don’t know,” the Colonel answered. “It won’t blow until I activate the detonator.”

  Neesha didn’t have to dodge too many obstacles on the way to the pit. Most of the tents had been blown down during the meteorite shower. The rest were deliberately struck or flattened by the drivers of other vehicles who took a more direct route away from ground zero.

  “Here we go,” Brighton said as they got closer.

  Neesha slowed the truck and approached the pit at an angle.

  “You two stay in the cab,” said the Colonel. “I’m just going to shove that bad boy into the crater, then we high-tail it toward the others.”

  Neesha popped the truck into reverse and backed it up to the pit. She shifted into park as Brighton disappeared around the back. Kate watched in the rearview as he let the gate slam open, then operated the winch to let out some slack. After unhooking the cable, he tapped a sequence of numbers on the touchscreen attached to the side of the bomb. Fishing around under his
collar, he pulled out a small electronic device attached to a lanyard. He held the device close to the touchscreen until there was a loud beep, then he gave the bomb a mighty shove toward the pit.

  It rolled down the ramps, clattering against the metal, and hit the lip of the crater. The momentum flipped the bomb over the edge, and it vanished.

  Brighton ran back to the cab and climbed inside.

  “Hit it,” he said as he slammed his door.

  Neesha stomped on the gas pedal, the truck’s tires spitting dirt into the pit after the bomb. The tires caught and the truck lurched forward.

  Kate held on to the seat between her legs as if it were the saddle of a bucking bronco.

  “How long until you can detonate?” Neesha asked.

  Brighton checked his watch against a small glowing screen on the device he wore as a necklace.

  “Less than a minute to clear the blast zone. It will be rough, but we should make it.”

  Neesha looked at Kate with wide eyes, and mouthed the word ‘Should?!’

  “You wanted to come along,” said Kate, patting her leg.

  Brighton checked the timer on his detonator.

  “Almost there,” he said. “And….now.”

  He entered a code on the small screen and squeezed the sides of the device.

  Kate stared at one of the side-view mirrors, watching the bouncy reflection of the impact site.

  Nothing happened.

  Brighton frowned. He tapped the device screen again and mashed the buttons on its sides.

  “Maybe we’re too far away,” said Neesha.

  “Stop the truck,” the Colonel ordered.

  The truck was rolling to a stop when he jumped down to the dusty ground. Kate hopped down after him and stayed by the door as he stomped back in the direction of the site, removing the lanyard from his neck and holding the detonator high as if he were reminding the bomb who had his finger on the button.

  A black streak shot down from the sky. It was a wide, blurred line that didn’t so much travel from the sky to the ground as it did appear in both places at once, filling the space between with a semi-opaque black pillar.

  The top of the streak dropped rapidly to meet the bottom, where it solidified into the object that had plummeted from the heavens.