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Chapter 13
Zach Croft: 2053
It was all too real.
The hovercraft releasing bombs over desert terrain. Paratroopers dropping in, barrels lit up with bullets. Planes whizzing by on all sides. Zach knew it was a simulation. Still, his heart thudded in his throat, just waiting for one of the bombs to detonate at his feet.
Of all places, why did Rhea have to be in a military simulator practicing for a war that would never come? She was a cruise ship pilot, not a soldier. Not anymore.
Zach approached the training rig—a hollowed-out F-32 equipped with a VR headset and fully immersive controls—but didn’t startle her. He felt like he was tiptoeing around a bear guarding her cubs: one false step, and Rhea would pounce, mostly likely with a punch to Zach’s jaw. So he opted to stay quiet, to wait for her to finish.
A massive screen covered one of the walls. It housed a real-time feed of Rhea’s simulation. Zach had to admit, she was good. He watched as her plane dashed toward the rival citadel, a tall metal tower with massive cannons and flamethrowers. She flew directly above it, shut off her engines, and allowed the ship to free fall. The guns tried to align themselves with the newfound intruder, but the shots kept falling short.
It wasn’t until a second before the ship crashed into the roof that Rhea engaged reverse thrusters. A moment later, she slammed her hand onto the EJECT button and glided through the air. Why would she do that? What was the point of ditching her craft when she was already safe?
Her decision became clear when her plane exploded, taking down the upper half of the citadel. The rest crumbled into a pile shortly after. Her parachute engaged, and she touched down safely on the sandy ground.
The words “MISSION SUCCESS” faded onto the screen, and Rhea peeled off the VR headset. Her raven hair stuck to her sweat-dampened forehead in clumps she swept to the side. She breathed heavily, fixed her black tank top, then heaved a sigh. She clawed for a water bottle near her feet. But as her fingers wrapped around it, she noticed Zach staring. “Admiring the view?”
There was no point in keeping his distance now. Zach strode up to the rig and looked around with an impressed nod. “What are you doing in the simulator?”
Rhea took a sip of water. “It’s the only place I still get to blow shit up.”
“I noticed.” He imagined her in a real dogfight, swerving enemy fighters while blasting those in front of her to bits. Perfect accuracy. Perfect control. “Do you have a second before you start shooting again?”
Rhea shrugged, stood up, and dropped a few feet to the floor. “My time’s up anyway. Those council bastards only give me thirty minutes a day.”
Zach was on the council.
“No offense,” Rhea finished with a wry smile.
“None taken.” Zach glanced at the screen, which still showed the SUCCESS message. “Impressive work.”
“That’s what four years in hell gets you.”
“Thank you for your service,” Zach said awkwardly, not knowing how to respond.
“So,” Rhea clapped her hands. “I know you didn’t come here to tell me how awesome I am. What do you need? A hitman?”
“A pilot.”
“For what?”
After swearing her to secrecy, Zach told her about the mission. The solar flares. Taking the Gateway to Mars. Loading up on fuel. Alpha Cen. He expressed his dire need for not only a pilot but a great pilot. “You’re the only person I can go to, Rhea. I need you,” he told her. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth. OSE had plenty of pilots on par with Rhea Vasquez, but one thing set her apart from the others: she had a reason to go with him.
“I’m flattered, Zach. I really am.” She spoke flatly, as if bored by his crazy, possibly-suicidal mission. “What I don’t get is why I’m the only person you can ask. It’s not like we’re best buds.”
Zach took a deep breath. “Your father.”
“What’s my dad got to do with anything?”
“Carlo Vasquez, thirty-four years old, lead pilot for the Prescott mission.” Zach paused for a moment. “Deceased.”
“That’s why you need me?”
“I need you because you’re the best pilot I’ve ever met.” And also, because Ryker said no. But he wasn’t going to tell her that. “Look.” He took a seat on the edge of the rig. “I may be wrong, but don’t you think finishing what Prescott started would do some kind of justice for our parents’ deaths? Like their work amounted to something?”
“Does Carver know about this? Your little odyssey?”
“No, and you can’t tell him.” Carver finding out that Zach was going ahead with the mission—after Carver definitively rejected it—would be catastrophic. Zach would be fired. Maybe jailed. Hell, probably jailed. Any hope of humanity’s survival would be erased.
“How do I know you’re right? About any of it?” Rhea asked as she started for the exit. Zach followed.
They walked a few meters, then stepped out into the hall. “It’s all in the numbers,” Zach replied. “If you can’t believe that, just step outside when a flare is happening. I assure you, it won’t end well.”
Rhea pondered Zach’s offer, strolling down the corridor. Her gray eyes moved to the floor. “I get paid a shitload of money to fly cruise ships full of rich people. It’s kind of a stretch to assume I’d go to Mars.”
“If anyone can do it, it’s you—”
“I never said I couldn’t. The question is whether I wantto.” Want? That was her reason. He just told her that the world would end, and she was pretending that she had better things to do? As if her exciting life as a StarSet pilot was too important to let go. “Why should I risk my career? Or ruining my reputation? Or worse, dying.“
Zach and Rhea turned a corner and descended a flight of stairs. “Because you’d be a hero. Well, more of a hero than you already are.” A few seconds later, they exited the facility and crossed to the StarSet building.
“If I agree to do this, I’ll never see Earth again, right? Next stop, Alpha Cen?”
“We wouldn’t see the ground again, but we’d return to orbit. To pick everyone up. That’s the plan.”
“I don’t want a plan. I want a promise. I do this, I get a seat on that ship to Alpha Cen.”
Zach took a moment to collect his thoughts, glancing around the courtyard. “I promise.”
Rhea stopped him once they reached the plaza’s center, a large oak surrounded by short brick walls. She sat down, listening to the leaves rustle. “Okay…” After a moment of silence, she nodded to herself. “You’ve got yourself a pilot.”
Ryker Gagarin: 2053
He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew where he ended up.
As Ryker planted himself in the driveway of his old house, he watched the yellow sun dip behind the roof. Gazing into his old room, he could see that the walls were still blue, and the ceiling fan was still as shiny as the day he moved in. Being there made him feel weird. But how else was he supposed to orient himself in this strange world he’d left so long ago?
Ryker stuffed his hands into the pockets of his worn bomber jacket. Memories of his parents flickered before his eyes.
Why’d he come here, of all places? He knew there was nothing for him here. Nobody waiting for him. “What am I gonna do?” he whispered to the house. For a moment, he listened as singed palm fronds crackled in the wind.
“Sir? Can I help you?” a woman’s voice asked.
Ryker’s mind was blank. The voice wasn’t in his head. Not this time. “What?”
As Ryker turned to face the woman, she gestured toward the house. “You were just staring up at that house. Thought you might be lost.”
Ryker exhaled and gave a light smile. “No, I— uh… I used to live here.”
The woman faltered. She stared at him for a moment, lip twitching. “Ryker?” The woman searched Ryker’s eyes for some sign of recognition. The color in her skin drained paper white. “It’s me… Cora.”
Cora? Now Ryker could see the resemblance. She didn’t look much different than she did as a child. “Holy shit. Cora!”
Cora laughed and ran over to hug Ryker. After a smiling embrace, she pulled away and glanced back up the road. “What are you doing here without Zach?”
Ryker frowned. Why wasn’t she surprised that he was back? It had been decades since they’d seen each other, and upon reuniting, all she cared to ask was, what are you doing here without Zach? Ugh. Zach must have talked to her. What else had Zach told her? Did he involve her in his kamikaze Mars mission? Instead of exploring these questions deeper, Ryker answered, “I don’t know. This was the first place I thought of.”
“I get it… Well, you need to tell me everything. I need to know how you’ve made it all these years.” Cora looked at him with a hybrid look of amazement and sorrow.
“I—”
“You know what? Just come back to my house, and let’s talk about it over a cup of tea.”
“Twenty-three-years…” Cora said, soaking in what Ryker said. “How, after twenty-three years, did you come back safe and sound? What changed?”
“I was on the Gateway the whole time. Every dropship was locked when I got stuck there.”
“Then how’d you finally get onto one?”
Ryker took a sip of his hot drink. “Twenty years of trial and error.”
“What did you eat?”
“Produce, if you could call it that. The hydrofarm was built to support a lot of people, so there was more than enough for just me. Until half the beds died out.” Ryker drove his tongue against the roof of his mouth a few times. He could still taste the bitter protein paste he’d been forced to eat after the beans died. The fucking beans.
The doorbell rang, and Cora looked at Ryker. “Shit. I forgot about lunch…”
“Lunch with who?”
Cora did not have time to answer before the sound of the front door opening exploded through the house, and a tall blonde woman walked into the kitchen. As her thick, worn shoes clacked against the floor, she exclaimed, “Oh, Cora, the new kitchen looks fabulous!” Her eyes wandered across the walls and appliances. Meanwhile, Cora’s eyes were set on Ryker.
The woman stopped in front of the counter with a leather bag dangling from her forearm. Files and papers stuck out from the hastily clasped opening, and Ryker caught a glimpse of one that read OSE.
“Who’s this?” the woman asked, motioning to Ryker. But before Cora could introduce them, the woman offered her hand in greeting. “I’m Mabel.”
Her eyes had a slightly manic look, as if a billion thoughts were tumbling through her brain at once. The side of her hand was stained with graphite. Little marker doodles covered her wrist.
Ryker hesitantly offered his own scarred hand. “Ryker.”
“It’s good to meet you, Ryker.” Mabel took off her purple and blue flannel and set it aside on the counter, then touched the surface of Ryker’s bomber jacket and smiled. “My brother has one like this. Vintage.”
Cora stood up and ushered Mabel down the hall. “I finished my research paper if you want to see it.” She opened the door to her home office. “It’s on the desk. Give it a read while I finish with Ryker, then we can discuss it.”
Mabel scratched her frizzy blonde hair, ducked into the room, and closed the door. Cora returned to Ryker’s side. “We have to make this quick. Where’s Zach?”
“Trying to go back to Prescott,” Ryker said bitterly, his imagination taking the wheel. He felt the red soil of Mars between his toes, the dropship crashing into the ground, watching as his dad died under a pile of rubble. And after all that, Zach wanted to go back there? More memories flashed through Ryker’s head. The first few days on the Gateway. The never-ending machine hum that penetrated the depths of his skull. Endless days of hunger as crops died out. How he wanted so badly to turn back the clock to before they left for Mars.
“Go back to Prescott? What does that mean?”
“He has a ridiculous plan to go back to find some irogen that magically appeared. He asked his boss—“
“Carver.”
“Right, but Carver said no. So, Zach wants to do it himself.”
“He didn’t tell me about any of this.” Cora’s face showed a twinge of betrayal. “How does he even know all that’s true?”
“We went to see some guy. Wilford something.”
“Wilford Owen?” Cora’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. She propped her elbow up on the marble countertop. “What did he say?”
An image of Wilford’s charred and curling flesh flashed through Ryker’s mind. He decided to skip over the details. “We got Wilford’s old laptop, and Zach found something that made him think going back to Prescott is the solution to all his problems.”
Cora digested his words. “Okay, but Carver said no, right? So, that’s it. He can’t do it without OSE. He’s just one person.”
“That’s the thing. He doesn’t think he needs them. Not based on what he told me.” Ryker still had a hard time wrapping his head around it.
“Prescott’s on Mars,” Cora said, pointing out the obvious. “What’s he gonna do, teleport there?”
“He doesn’t need to. He has my dropship, and he has the Gateway. I’m sorry, Cora, but he thinks the world is ending. He’s doing it.”
Cora rested her forehead against the counter, swearing under her breath. “This is crazy.” She looked up at Ryker. “You’ve gotta talk him out of it.”
“You think I didn’t try? He doesn’t care what I have to say. He only asked me to come because he needs a pilot.”
“No, you mean more to him than that. “
“Apparently not.”
“Ryker, you were dead two days ago! Now, you’re not.” Cora got up, walked to the nearest window, and pointed outside. “Zach stood out there every night for years, hoping you would come home. He never gave up on you. And you’re just gonna give up on him?”
“What do you expect me to do?” Ryker asked, frustrated. Zach was going to get himself killed. The very thought angered Ryker. Not because one of the only friends he had left was going to die, but because Zach didn’t appreciate the second chance he has been given after Prescott. Ryker would kill to be in Zach’s shoes.
“Talk him out of it,” Cora repeated, pacing around the living room. “Keep trying. I can tell my mom too. She might be able to convince him.”
“Why would he listen to her?”
“We were raised together after Prescott. It’ll be like it’s coming from his own mother.” Cora nodded to herself. “We have to stop him. Will you help me?”
Ryker had already done his part. He had tried to talk Zach down, and it didn’t work. They could only hope Zach’s plan would fail before he got into too much trouble. But deep down, Ryker knew it wouldn’t fail. Zach wouldn’t let it. Not with so much at stake.
Ryker pushed his mug of tea away. A bit sloshed over the edge and pooled on the counter. “There’s no saving him, Cora.” Ryker stood, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “He thinks he’s saving us. And you know damn well there’s nothing we could say to stop him.”
Zach Croft: 2053
“Mr. Croft, how inevitable of a threat to life on Earth do you think the solar flares will be in the long run?” the tall, lanky student with tortoiseshell glasses asked, gripping the mic with his skeletal hands.
How do I answer this without Carver flaming me tomorrow? Zach thought. “They’re concerning. I’m not going to lie,” Zach said from the Caltech podium. “But we still have time to get them under control.”
The student returned to his seat, and another took his place.
“Have you heard anything from NASA or the other federation agencies about ways to mitigate the impact of the flares?” the petite girl asked.
Zach looked at the high vaulted ceiling, studying the wooden cross beams as he leaned into the mic. “OSE’s been working on rebuilding the magnetosphere, but other agencies haven’t made headway, no.” Every word out of his mouth was sticky and smelling of death. He wished he could be doing something to save these people instead of just lecturing them.
But no, not tonight. While Zach could be out recruiting more people or working out a plan to steal the dropship, he was instead answering questions he’d fielded a million times before. It wasn’t lecturing that was the problem—he loved educating people about the cosmos. It was the fact that he couldn’t speak his mind truthfully. He couldn’t admit that OSE was lying to the public about conditions getting better. He couldn’t reveal that only a thousand people out of six billion would survive. He couldn’t rally troops to come with him to Mars. The most he could do was allow Carver to speak through him, contradicting everything he stood for. At least he’d been able to recruit Rhea the previous day.
The next woman to take the spotlight drew Zach’s attention. She was tall, with frizzy blonde hair and pale blue eyes that locked on his as she adjusted the mic to the proper height.
Mabel.
Mabel Liora was an OSE bacteriologist who worked closely with Cora. Zach didn’t work directly with her, but he was familiar with her accomplishments. Why was she here, at an astronomy lecture? Zach furrowed his brow.
“Mr. Croft, given the neglect of the Exodus program on OSE’s part, do you think we should consider leaving Earth rather than saving it?” A few murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd.
“Leave Earth?” Zach tensed up. “We don’t have the resources to leave Earth. We’d need a ship and fuel—the latter of which is only on Mars. And… OSE isn’t going back there anytime soon.” Maybe that was a good enough cover, but he still was unsure. Could her question just be a coincidence?
“Of course. Why would anyone ever want to go back to that desolate place?”
It might have been an innocent question, but it made Zach uncomfortable. The way she asked it, it was almost like she knew what he was planning. Zach coughed and checked his watch. “I think our time is about up, but I’ll be back for the solar energy lecture in a month. Have a good night, everyone.” He left the podium to massive applause and retreated backstage.
His fingers found his hair, and he shut his eyes tight.
She knew. She had to know; her question was too specific. But how could she? Who told her? Cora? No, Cora had no idea what Zach was doing. And anyway, it didn’t matter who had told Mabel—just that she knew. What troubled him was what she could do with that information if he was right about her.
After cooling down, Zach exited the lecture hall and entered the chilly night. Crossing his arms over his Harvard sweater, he walked to the courtyard fountain and sat down. He pulled out his phone and debated texting Cora for advice but managed to suppress the urge.
He heard the footsteps before he saw her face, but he instantly knew who was approaching him. Mabel stopped just in front of him and gave him a calculated look. “Everything okay?”
Zach shook his head, not wanting to give himself away until he had all the information. “I’ve got a migraine. Used to get them all the time, and they’re starting to come back.”
Mabel sat beside him and pulled a little bottle of aspirin out of her bag. “I got the drugs. Now, where’s my money?” she said jokingly.
“I’ll set up a payment plan.” Zach smiled, then accepted the painkillers and downed four. He melted a bit, allowing his shoulders to stoop. “What are you doing here, Mabel?”
A cold breeze swept through the college courtyard, and as if blending in with the wind, Mabel whispered, “I heard about your plan.”
“I don’t have a plan.”
“Sure you do. Cora and a friend of yours were talking about it.” She made eye contact with Zach, sending an uneasy chill down Zach’s spine.
Zach fell silent as he tried to keep calm. It had to be Ryker. What the hell was Ryker doing talking to Cora? “Did he at least look well? My… friend?”
“A little ticked off, but he seemed okay.” Mabel crossed her legs, resting one hand on her thick black boot and the other just above the fountain’s surface. Her fingers skimmed back and forth through the water. “If you’re worried about me ratting on you, don’t be.”
“What are you going to do then?”
A silent interval passed.
“Come with you, of course,” Mabel said. “I’ve wanted to study the Red Plague for years. It’s why I became a bacteriologist.” Mabel kept her eyes stuck on Zach’s to hold his attention. “The scientific benefits will be incredible.”
“Why does that matter if Earth is going to be destroyed? You’d be wasting your time.” Zach hated being so negative, but he had to make sure she backed down.
“Sure, but what we learn will be very important on Alpha Cen. If we could bring some samples from Mars back up to the Gateway—”
“No. We’re not going to purposely bring the Plague onto the station. It’s too dangerous.”
“I know how to safely handle bacteria, Zach. That’s kind of my thing.”
“That ship will hold the last thousand members of the human race. I’m not going to chance it more than I already am.”
“And once you get to Alpha Cen, what then? Think of the viruses, the bacteria we’d be exposed to. When the Europeans came to America, infection nearly wiped out the Natives, and that was just smallpox—not a xenobacteria.” Mabel got closer. “Do you understand my point? I need to get some kind of understanding of xenobacteria, so we have a head start when we get to Alpha Cen. Maybe we could have the basics of a vaccine worked out before we even land.”
“Look, OSE didn’t choose Alpha Cen for no reason. They had to have thought of the risks.”
“Is this the same OSE letting our planet die in the first place?” Mabel cocked her head. Then, she blurted out, “what if someone from your crew gets hurt?” as if it had just struck her. “I’m a doctor. I went to medical school. I can be there to help. And I’m an extra pair of hands. I may not look the part, but I used to rebuild classic cars with my dad back in Michigan, so I can make myself useful.”
“I don’t know, Mabel.” Zach got up to leave.
Mabel stood and took Zach’s hand. “I can helpyou, Zach. Why won’t you let me?”
“Are you going to tell Carver if I say no?”
“I already said I’m not a rat.” She raised her manicured eyebrows. “But do you have any clue how dangerous your mission is? As much as you want to deny it, someone could get hurt. Or killed. I don’t want that. Cora doesn’t want that.”
Zach looked to the stars for advice as he had done for so many years. He sighed and nodded. “Don’t speak a word of this to Cora. She doesn’t need to know any more than she already does.”
“So, can I come?”
“It’s your funeral,” Zach said, then rethought his words. “Our funeral.”
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