Days Until Home

by Mark Gardner

  Siebert affirmed and got into position. “Will this airlock still be functional with the mechanism disabled?”

  “No. We’ll need to oxygenate the entire passageway.” Together they shoved the door into the surrounding bulkhead. “Since all the airlocks are self-contained, and make oxygen by electrolysis, all we need is electricity.” Adelaide motioned behind them where a pile of mining suits floated. She and Siebert changed from launch suits to mining suits because they had a bigger battery. They lost the ability to use the hybrid oxygenator the launch suits had but gained power, illumination, ruggedness, and the simple fact that if they were suddenly exposed to the black, they wouldn’t freeze to death.

  Adelaide moved sluggishly in the suit she was unaccustomed to. Siebert was like a duck in water. Although the phrase was odd to her, Adelaide knew that the lakes and ponds of Earth held the waterfowl so abundant that feeding them scraps of bread was a favorite pastime of children. She had never seen a real duck before and obviously not one in water. Still, the expression was still used by many humans.

  Shut up, brain, she thought and reached into the floating mass of suits. They retrieved them immediately after leaving the escape trunk. They had to return to a functioning airlock so she could work on the suits without her gloves. She had hoped this airlock would work, but without power, it was just a big piece of plastic, carbon, and metal. They had returned to the trunk to do the job properly, DeJoseph watching her every move.

  She pulled the suits into position and plugged a cable she jury-rigged into a contact inside the airlock. The mining suits had one more advantage that she didn’t clue in Siebert: They were resistant to explosions and flying shrapnel.

  She figured there was a one-in-five chance that when she made the connection, the entire panel would crap out and test out the ruggedness of the mining suit.

  “Here we go,” she declared over the comms. She positioned the connector over the receptacle, closed her eyes, and made the connection.

  Days Until Home: 85

  “Crazy Ade is something else,” declared Captain Hayes.

  Jeremy ignored his captain’s quip and tethered himself to a piece of shattered bulkhead. They had both changed into EVA suits before making their way slowly to the cargo bay. The main cargo hold was intact, but the passageways to get there were damaged in the thruster explosion. That was the only explanation of the damage they witnessed.

  Is it irony that damage control is one of the spaces destroyed, Jeremy thought.

  The Kerwood’s horizontal spine was shattered. The launch hallway, engineering spaces at both ends and the launch thrusters on that spine were all destroyed. The largest concentration of humans was in that launch hallway. Jeremy had seen loss of life in his career in the ADF. He had seen his share of mining accidents aboard the Kerwood, too, but the bodies in the twisted launch hallway took the cake, as they say.

  “Which one?” asked Captain Hayes.

  “It’ll be in the same kind of container, but it’ll be isolated from the haul and the food since it was exposed to the black and solar radiation.” Jeremy surveyed the cargo bay. The bulkheads on one end were buckled and twisted, but as far as he could tell, the cargo hold would hold atmosphere. “Look for a box with red radiation decals.”

  For the next few moments, there was shuffling in magnetic boots as the two men walked the long rows of cargo bolted to the deck and neighboring containers. The silence was occasionally interrupted by an expletive and the need to re-position the tether.

  “Found it,” Captain Hayes called out. His voice sounded slightly tinny over the common band.

  Bolted to the deck, and covered with red netting, was the cargo container in question. Captain Hayes positioned the chemical welder he had appropriated from an unhappy Siebert and got to work on the bolts that held each corner together. Jeremy pointed a mining candle at a bolt opposite the captain and got to work.

  The heat from the candle threw off sparks that died quickly in the oxygen-poor cargo hold. Jeremy was still glad he had a pair of mining gloves over his EVA suit.

  It took several hours for the two men to free the probe from its container. The heat they both produced was intense, and they had to stop at regular intervals to rest and rehydrate. When the probe was finally freed, they floated in the bay examining the fruits of their labor.

  “How do we cut out the module?” Captain Hayes asked.

  “We can’t. The candles or welder will destroy it. We need to dismantle this by hand.”

  “Tools?”

  Jeremy patted a plastic case he had tethered to his suit. “All of it’s in here.” He pulled off his mining gloves and opened the case. “Slag!” he hissed.

  “Jeremy?” Captain Hayes returned.

  “The slagging nut driver is missing.”

  “Do we need another?”

  “Yeah, but I have no idea where to get one,” Jeremy replied. “I can still do it, it’ll just take longer.”

  “Not too long, I hope. We have three weeks of rations and twelve weeks of travel time. Getting someone to assist us is the only way we survive this.”

  “Relax, Skipper,” Jeremy replied, “We’re talking less than an hour.” The Chief Engineer of the Kerwood got to work on the probe casing with the ship’s captain staring over his shoulder.

  Days Until Home: 85

  Nothing happened.

  Adelaide opened her eyes.

  The makeshift connector had seated properly, but the airlock still wasn’t getting any power. She frowned and traced the wires into the mining suits.

  “Adelaide?” Siebert asked.

  “Something’s not right,” she replied.

  “No slag, Sherlock,” Siebert retorted.

  Adelaide stepped out of the airlock, careful to not disturb the suits lashed together.

  “This should work,” she said. Her boot detached from the deck when her magnetron shorted out again. She drew in a breath to curse, but something in the ball of suits chimed, followed by a blinking light. She peered at the mass of tangled arms and legs, and then down at her free-floating foot. She pressed a button on her cluster, deactivating both her magnetrons. Another beep and another blinking light emanated out from the suits.

  “Siebert,” she said, “turn off your boots.”

  He looked at her, then at the suits, and reached for a button on his forearm cluster.

  Adelaide could tell when Siebert turned off his magnetron. All the suits started beeping and flashing. A light in the airlock flickered on, and an indicator on her forearm cluster blinked. The airlock was producing oxygen. It was attempting to pressurize the airlock, but the missing hatch leaked atmosphere into the passageway. An alarm on the bulkhead of the airlock chimed. The airlock AI was concerned that the oxygen levels in the small space weren’t rising as they were supposed to. Adelaide scrutinized the readings on her cluster and glanced to the warning indicator on the airlock bulkhead.

  “Uh oh,” Adelaide said.

  “What?” Siebert replied.

  “I think we’ve miscalculated.”

  “Huh?”

  “We need to back away, and make sure the metal in your magnetron doesn’t touch the deck.”

  Adelaide could see Siebert’s eyes grow wide in his suit, but he complied. They were almost to the door opposite the engineering gantry when a spark between one of the coupled suit electronics ignited the O2 the airlock AI furiously pumped into the small space. The resulting explosion obliterated the airlock and threw Siebert and Adelaide against a door at the side of the bulwark.

  Days Until Home: 85

  Jeremy thought they had made decent time. They were close enough to the bridge to hear communications from Gauge to the infirmary and playful banter among the surviving crew.

  Jeremy and Captain Hayes staggered in their magnetic boots as the Kerwood shuddered. “Slag it, Skipper, now what?” Jeremy muttered.

  “Gauge?” Captain Hayes called out. “What was that?”

  “Wait one, Captain,” Gaug
e replied. The chatter on the channel died with whatever had caused the Kerwood to buck.

  Captain Hayes and Jeremy tightened their grip on the netting they had cut away from what covered the cargo box containing the probe. Nestled in the center of the sag between them was the telemetry module. Jeremy was concerned; the probe had suffered several micrometeoroid impacts. The case was designed with this in mind, and it generated a magnetic wave in front of the probe to scatter space dust. Anything larger than a few grains or rice would’ve destroyed the probe. He was relieved when he pulled the casing off and revealed the pristine electronics he had handled under more than one contract before.

  It also didn’t feel right to him to leave the probe open to the atmosphere. It wasn’t that he was worried about the micro nuclear reactor that powered the probe, but what if something falls on the slagging thing? If there were a nuclear event, it was unlikely the explosion would do more than damage the deck underneath it. That was why they stored it by itself, to mitigate potential damage. In the end, Captain Hayes overruled him in his desire to replace the probe casing. Captain Hayes seemed to have a single-minded focus on getting communications re-established. I just hope that devotion to the task doesn’t come back to haunt us, he thought.

  “Captain,” Gauge replied a few moments later, “please switch to channel seven-blue.”

  Captain Hayes allowed his end to float free as he manipulated his forearm cluster. He motioned for Jeremy to touch their helmets together.

  “Go ahead, Gauge,” Captain Hayes responded after Jeremy had released his end of the netting, ambled the three feet to the captain and his helmet made contact.

  “Sir, we had an explosion in the fore gantry to Main Engineering.”

  “Adelaide,” Captain Hayes muttered.

  “Captain?” Gauge replied.

  “Never mind.” Captain Hayes sighed. “Ship integrity?”

  “Can’t tell from here, but I’m pretty sure the explosion didn’t breach the hull.”

  “Damn that woman,” Captain Hayes said. To Gauge, he replied, “We’re almost to you, and we’ve got the replacement telemetry module.”

  Jeremy didn’t hear Gauge’s response as he had broken contact with the captain’s helmet and returned to his trudging position. After a moment, Captain Hayes grabbed his end of the netting, and they continued their journey toward the bridge.

  Days Until Home: 85

  We are so screwed, thought Adelaide.

  She verified Siebert’s vitals on his forearm cluster, but the rotund miner was out cold. The plan had been to pump atmosphere into main engineering and reestablish the link to the bridge. The delicate work needed to repair the link couldn’t be done with gloves on. She was confident she could still oxygenate engineering, but now she’d need to do the same to the passageway on the other side of the airlock.

  A piece of shrapnel was lodged in the door at the end of the passageway, and several of the doors along the passageway were also bent and warped. Various pieces of bulkhead and equipment were piled at the breached door. Now she had to get atmosphere into all the newly opened spaces. It could still be done, but she suspected it would take the better part of a day to enact the repairs, then four hours or more to reestablish the link, if the explosion hadn’t damaged anything else.

  When she and Siebert collided, her forearm cluster must’ve hit something. They no longer had communication with Gauge or DeJoseph. The debris made egress through the hatch where Siebert lay off to the side, inaccessible. If she hadn’t been able to wrestle the door to a storage closet open in time, they would’ve been between the shrapnel and the busted door. She only pulled Siebert back out into the main passageway. She was effectively trapped in engineering with no way to talk to anyone. With her transponder masked by the copper mesh she still wore, they wouldn’t know if she was alive or dead.

  If she could possibly get atmosphere into one of those rooms or storage closets, she might be able to do the delicate work in the space, but the explosion had breached many of the doors. Plus, without independent atmosphere control, once she opened a door, that atmosphere was gone. She could try to get a few launch suits, their hybrid oxygenators might be able to pull enough O2 out of the ambient, but the explosion had burned most of it away. Besides, the suits were on the other side of the mass of metal, carbon, and melted plastic.

  She floated toward the engineering space, opening operational doors along the way. The only way to get any sort of atmosphere in these spaces was to get it from somewhere else. In main engineering, the EXT panel had a piece of shrapnel embedded in it, but from what she could see, the EXT was fully operational. She entered her code into one of the panels, and then entered Jeremy’s code after it. The EXT started humming. It felt peaceful. Everyone told her she imagined it, but she knew better. The twin Electrostatic Xenon Thrusters made her feel like she could accomplish anything. She looked down at the EXT panel.

  ENGAGE? Blinked in large letters.

  “Slag it,” she muttered and pressed the blinking panel.

  Days Until Home: 84

  “That should do it,” Jeremy Thompkin declared. He leaned back from the auxiliary communications panel. Captain Hayes and Gauge Schneider peered at the panel. It was as dark and useless as the EXT control panel. The dark EXT panel filled the Chief Engineer of the Kerwood with dread. Getting the thing connected to Main Engineering was secondary only to establishing communications. He wished that Erika Ängström were on the bridge. She knew communication systems better than anyone else on the ship. But she was still recovering in the infirmary. A full day had passed since Adelaide had partnered everyone up and sent everyone on his or her way.

  Most of the teams adhered to the order of progress reports every four hours, but they hadn’t heard from Adelaide or Siebert in the better part of a day. Captain Hayes had sent a team to investigate, but whatever explosion occurred in or around main engineering had left the main access passageway destroyed. His MPA could probably find a way to and from the space via little-known access points, but since her transponder stopped functioning during the initial disaster that had crippled the Kerwood, her whereabouts were unknown.

  Siebert, on the other hand, his whereabouts were known. He was just on the other side of a mangled access door. His vitals were okay, but the delta waves in his readout were disturbing. Jeremy didn’t quite follow, but Gauge and Telly assured him the miner was all right. I sure hope so, he thought.

  He sent Old Vicky and Jimmy with the chemical welder to where Siebert’s transponder kept feeding them a steady stream of his vitals. It had taken Gauge and Telly over four hours to remove Erika’s right hand and the broken bracket. She was chomping at the bit to lend a hand, and although she wasn’t in any significant danger, her single hand made her work difficult. Not that she cared, she was raring to go, but Gauge and Telly insisted she recover for the next twelve hours.

  It was incredible to Jeremy that he shared the Kerwood with such a resilient and multi-talented crew. They had even made contact with a few other survivors in isolated parts of the ship. Their number had grown by only eight, but it was eight more souls they were responsible for. There simply wasn’t the manpower to gather these eight other survivors into the fold. Determining the fate of Adelaide and Main Engineering would soon be their priority after that slagging panel decided to function.

  “Huh,” muttered Gauge.

  Captain Hayes turned to his navigator and raised his eyebrows. It was unbelievable to Jeremy the sudden warmth the captain had when talking to Gauge. The stoic captain even cracked a smile at something Gauge had said. Although Jeremy was part of the senior staff as the chief engineer, the captain still seemed guarded to him.

  “What’ve you got, Mister Schneider?” Jeremy asked the navigator.

  “I’ve been doing some math while you were installing that,” he began with a dismissive gesture toward the telemetry module. His voice trailed off after a few minutes, engrossed with something on his navigation panel.

 
“Gauge,” Captain Hayes said, “What’s got your shorts in a twist?”

  “It’s not adding up,” he replied. “Something is augmenting our velocity.”

  “Solar wind?” asked Captain Hayes.

  “No,” Jeremy replied, “our mass is too great to be affected by solar wind and, besides, that would be pushing us away from the sun, not drawing us toward the Earth. We are still pointed to where we need to be, right?”

  “Yeah,” Gauge responded. “It’s just that each time I run the scenario, the numbers diverge greater than they did on the last run. Whatever is affecting us, it’s exponential, not linear or constant.”

  Before either man could inquire further, the dark communication panel lit up.

  BOOTING… the panel declared in large red letters.

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” Jeremy shouted and pumped his fist into the air. The movement sent him spinning away from the panel, and he flailed his arms to arrest his trajectory. “Gravity would be nice,” he lamented.

  “Not unless you’ve got a spare bridge sphere hidden in that tool bag of yours,” Gauge quipped.

  Jeremy pushed off a rail along the bridge and strapped himself into the communications station chair. The diagnostic cycle was almost complete. In just a few seconds, they would be able to ask for help.

  “…erwood, this…”

  “What was that?” Captain Hayes asked. Something sounded out from the overhead speakers, but only for a moment.

  “Let me patch our receive array into the common channel,” Jeremy declared, and his fingers danced across the panel.

  “…on approach…”

  The panel fell dark again, but this time is was only a screensaver, a light border ran along the edge of the panel.

  “There,” Jeremy declared.

  “…victor three, niner, two delta, please…”

  Jeremy held his hands on the sides of his helmet as if doing so would allow him to pierce the static on his suit radio.

  “…calling the Kerwood, do you require assistance?”