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Chapter 22
Zach Croft: 2053
Zach and Ryker carried Erik out of the dropship and into the docking bay. Mabel lagged behind, trying her hair in a tight knot, before joining the others in their walk. While it had only been a few hours since they left for Mars, the station seemed to have aged a decade. The lights above them were dim, making navigating the halls much more arduous. The air was thin and cold.
“Does the medbay have operating equipment? Surgical tools? Cauterization?” Mabel asked.
Ryker nudged a chair out of the way as they passed through the cafeteria. “I’m not a doctor, but I think so. Yeah.”
When they reached the medbay, the door opened into a chamber smelling of antiseptic. The main room splintered into three others, each with an operating table and an assortment of complicated medical equipment. Zach and Ryker placed Erik on a gurney in one of the rooms, then obeyed when Mabel demanded that they leave. Things were about to get messy.
Ryker sat against the wall in the hallway while Zach looked through the porthole window into the medbay. Plastic tubes ran from machine to machine, pumping drops of liquid between one another. Massive, circular lights hung from the infirmary ceiling. The brightness reached into the hall and projected aurora-like images on the wall beside Zach. It almost felt like a dream. Not a good one, of course. More like the semi-lucid ones where Zach was aware of himself, yet he was powerless against the whims of the world around him.
Zach pressed a button on the wall intercom connected to the medbay. “How does it look?” He tried his best not to reveal the rawness in his throat.
Mabel continued working as she spoke. “How do you want it to look, Zach?” She walked around a metal stand holding a pouch of liquid, the small tube connecting to an IV port inserted into Erik’s forearm. An oxygen mask clung to Erik’s face like an alien. His eyes were closed but twitching wildly. The loud beep of his vitals rang through Zach’s head, sounding like an unstoppable countdown to the moment of Erik’s death.
Zach dared to look at Erik’s leg. It was a mess of exposed bone and muscle. A pile of blood-soaked gauze leaned against it. Zach suppressed a rising wave of bile, then sat down beside Ryker.
For a few minutes, they said nothing. Trapped in his thoughts, Zach focused on the wall, scanning its intricate paneling and the caution signs left over from the Prescott era.
“It’s going to be a while. We should try to get some sleep,” Ryker advised, getting to his feet. Exhausted, Zach agreed and allowed him to lead the way to nearby living quarters. They each chose a bed close to the exit so that they could hear if Mabel was calling, then climbed under the covers. The mattress was hard, but Zach permitted himself to doze off. He sank into the warmth of the blanket.
ASSESSING FUEL USAGE.
The message flashed across the screen as Zach battled his fatigue with a cup of coffee. The assumption that a cozy bed and a few hours of quiet would solve all his problems proved incorrect. After an aborted attempt at sleep, Zach and Ryker found themselves in the Works with a drum of irogen at Zach’s side. They dragged in a scale, connected it to a diagnostic computer, and placed the drum on top. It was way more difficult to lift than on Mars, with the Gateway’s Earth-like level of gravity, but they managed.
Zach went to the computer and pulled up the fuel consumption data. He discovered that most of the emergency fuel supply that had gotten them to Mars had been depleted. It worried him. He had expected it to take them round-trip. But now, there wasn’t much to do but figure out if they had gotten enough irogen from the mines.
Once the computer finished synchronizing, two orbs—Earth and Mars—appeared on either side of the screen with dotted lines between them.
“How much of this fuel is required for Earth waypoint?” Ryker asked the computer. Then, he quickly added, “Without the continuum drive?”
“One moment, Gagarin,” the computer replied in a shockingly human voice. The system factored out the weight of the metal drum and the crystals inside, measuring only the amount of pure irogen within the spikes. “THREE PERCENT OF AVAILABLE IROGEN REQUIRED FOR EARTH WAYPOINT.”
“Three percent? That’s it?” Mabel entered, nursing a mug full of tea.
Zach and Ryker turned, surprised to hear Mabel’s voice.
“How is he?” Zach asked.
Mabel sipped her tea. She looked exhausted. “Resting,” she said.
“And his leg?”
“I did the best I could, but…” She looked down at the steaming mug in her hands. “I couldn’t save it.”
Zach’s stomach dropped. Ryker put a consoling hand on Zach’s shoulder. Zach shrugged it off. “Can I see him?”
“Not for a few hours. He’s heavily sedated.” Eager to change the subject, Mabel walked over to the drum of irogen. “So, we have enough, yeah?”
Zach placed his hand on the drum. “I told you. It’s powerful stuff.”
“Hang on. We’re not done.” Ryker mulled something over, picking at his lip. “Using the continuum drive, how much do we need for Alpha Cen?”
“NINETY-FOUR PERCENT OF AVAILABLE IROGEN REQUIRED FOR ALPHA CENTAURI WAYPOINT.”
Reality hit Zach, and he was unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed. “That gives us one trip.”
“That’s all we needed… right?” Mabel asked.
“Doesn’t leave much room for failure,” Zach replied. And there were plenty of failures to go around. “If we’re wrong about Alpha Cen, there won’t be anywhere else to go. We’ll be stranded.”
Mabel sipped her tea one more time. “So, let’s not be wrong about it, okay?”
“Hey,” Zach said, slowly approaching the recovery bed in the corner of the medbay. Propped up by a few pillows, Erik sat with his hands folded in his lap and his eyes trained on his bedside window. A sterile white blanket covered the lower half of his body. Even with his legs concealed, however, Zach couldn’t help but notice only one foot poking up through the sheet.
He bit back his guilt and sat on a stool next to Erik’s bed. “We’re going into cryo soon.” Erik said nothing, so Zach prompted him, “You wanna talk about it?”
What exactly would he have to say? How it was all Zach’s fault that he lost his leg and that he’d never forgive him? Maybe approaching Erik so soon was a mistake. They were all so, so tired. Erik, most of all.
But instead of attacking Zach, Erik simply adjusted and quickly glanced at him. “Mars is kind of beautiful, you know. Even with all that’s happened.”
Zach glanced out at the Red Planet and its eggshell-white ice caps. Happy for a distraction, he noted, “It will probably end up being habitable at some point.”
“How?”
“Well, when the sun expands in five billion years, it’ll melt the ice caps. Water will flood the surface, and slowly, it’ll become habitable.”
“Then, a species will emerge and destroy itself. Just like we have.”
“That’s something to drink to,” Zach joked. “To beginnings and endings.” He raised an invisible glass.
“To beginnings and endings.” Erik mimed a sipping motion.
As Zach sighed, the room turned quiet. Even the beeping machines that cluttered the medbay seemed to pause in anticipation. There was no escaping the elephant in the room anymore. Zach had to come out and say it. “I’m so sorry, Erik.”
Erik waved him off but didn’t meet his eye. “Not your fault. You tried to make me stay.”
“I could have tried harder.”
“I still would have gone.”
“But—”
“How about we blame OSE for not doing its damn job?”
Erik had a point there. They wouldn’t have even been on Mars if OSE hadn’t rejected Zach’s proposal. Still, Zach had allowed Erik to put himself in danger. Even worse, Zach had insisted on taking the irogen with them as the tunnel exploded. That same decision had cost Erik his leg. But none of it would have been necessary if OSE had done its job. “Okay. Sure.”
Erik bit his top lip. “What were you saying about cryo?”
“Everything’s ready to go,” Zach answered. He nodded at the red planet outside the window. “I’m done with this place.”
“That, we can agree on.”
Zach stood up and extended a hand. “Here, come on.”
As Erik took hold of his forearm, Zach helped him into the wheelchair beside the bed. Then, they traveled to the storage room, where the others were waiting to go into cryo.
Mabel rushed over to Erik as Zach wheeled him in. “Erik. How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay. I keep feeling like I forgot something, though…” He patted his pockets, then his empty pant leg. Mabel laughed awkwardly. Erik took her hand and squeezed it. “Seriously, though. Thank you. You saved my life.”
Erik’s words of gratitude seemed to calm Mabel a bit. “No problem.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “You would have done the same for me.”
“All right. Let’s head home,” Zach said. He proceeded to the corner of the room and activated four chambers. After the others climbed into their pods, he closed the lids and slipped into his own.
As the sedative gas pumped in from all directions, he thought of the irogen. Despite everything that had gone wrong, they had enough. They had prevailed.
Zach thought about Carver, smiling while relishing one final thought.
I proved him wrong.
Ryker Gagarin: 2030
Thump!
The sound of a body hitting the floor jolted Ryker to attention. “Mom!” He ran to his mother’s side of the tent and knelt beside her, feeling her sweat-covered forehead. She was burning up.
In a panicked frenzy, Ryker ran into the open and called for help. He didn’t stop until his mother was carried away on a stretcher, and even then, he pressed the doctors for answers. On the way to the medbay, they shooed him left and right, telling him to calm down.
But he couldn’t manage to contain his worry. What was wrong with his mother? Was she getting sick like those other people? She didn’t have any of the symptoms other than the fever. That could mean anything, right? A cold? The flu? It didn’t have to be the Red Plague… right?
At the door to the medbay, Ryker was handed a blanket and was instructed to wait outside. He propped himself against the wall, curled up, and tried to doze off.
Sleep eluded him. Instead, he attempted to quiet his panicked thoughts with happy memories and optimism. That always seemed to work for his mother. Unfortunately, she hadn’t passed that gene down.
He didn’t know what time it was when a doctor came to collect him, but the sky was somewhere between black and dull orange. “You can go in,” the physician told him. “But you have to wear this.” He revealed a long hazmat suit and handed it to Ryker. So his mother was sick? And not just ‘lay in bed watching television’ sick. Really sick.
Once the uncomfortable suit was against Ryker’s clammy skin, he pulled open the door and stepped inside. A subdued light radiated from the ceiling, making the patients look pale as ghosts. He approached the bed in the middle, smiling at his sleeping mother.
But the relief quickly faded at the sight of several tubes protruding from her arm. A cocktail of drugs dripped through them. Quinton stood by her side. He hid his shaking hands, thrusting them into his pockets as Ryker appeared beside him. “She’s going to be fine, kid.”
Was she? It didn’t look like it. The sunken eyes, the twitch of her lip, the feverish sheen of perspiration. “Is she…?”
“We gave her a light sedative to help her sleep through the night. It should help with the fever, too,” Quinton claimed, looking at a monitor that displayed her vitals.
“What happened?” asked Ryker.
Quinton hesitated momentarily, then glanced at the other people asleep in beds. “We don’t have a name for it yet. But we’ll get it under control.”
“So there’s a cure?” A bit of hope rose in Ryker’s chest.
“No. Not yet,” confided Quinton. “I’d suggest you get some rest and come back in the morning.”
“Is it okay if I stay here?” Ryker put on his best pleading face.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“I won’t be a bother. I’ll just pull up a chair and wait for her to wake up. Besides, I wouldn’t get any sleep knowing she’s like this anyway.”
Quinton sighed. “Yeah, okay. I’ll grab you a seat.” He wheeled over a small stool.
It wasn’t pleasant, especially with the hazmat suit, but it would have to do. Ryker burrowed his head into the blanket and placed his arms under his temple.
A few hours later, his mother’s voice cut through the air. It was weak, almost too quiet to be heard. Ryker shot up, grabbing onto Kayla’s hand. “Are you okay?”
She seemed confused. Probably a side effect of the drugs. “What’s going on?” She examined the tubes taped to her arms and gave up on trying to sit up. She looked at Ryker. “You’re yellow.”
Yellow? Why was he yellow? Ryker looked down at himself, then laughed a little. “Oh. It’s a hazmat suit. They made me wear it.”
“That’s not good,” she said. “Am I that sick?”
“You don’t look that bad, actually,” Ryker declared.
During the night, two more beds had filled up. A few doctors stood around one of them, discussing the patient’s condition. When Quinton saw that Ryker was awake, he came over. “I’m sorry to do this to you, kid. But you’ve got to go. Right now isn’t the best time for you to be here.”
“Why?” asked Ryker. He peeked between two doctors’ shoulders and saw a woman beside the bed, sobbing.
“What’s going…” Kayla started but trailed off before finishing.
“You need to go. Now, Ryker.” Quinton’s tone hardened.
It didn’t take long to figure out why. As two doctors stepped aside, the man in the bed came into view. He looked far worse than Kayla, with boils sprouting across his brownish skin. Ryker would have thought it was a corpse if not for the beeping vital signs above his head that informed him he was still clinging for life.
“Get out. Please.” Quinton tried to nudge Ryker in the direction of the door.
The man’s heart rate quickly increased. 140. 150. 160.
“Guard,” said Quinton. “Get him out of here.”
But Ryker couldn’t take his eyes off the monitor, the green line bouncing up and down in jagged lines.
The last thing he saw before he was dragged outside the tent was the line spiking one last time before it went flat.
Zach Croft: 2053
We’re back.
Zach sat up with a start, pulling himself through the layers of cryogenic gas. His heart hammered in his head as the light at the end of the tunnel became clear. They were going home! To see trees again and breathe fresh air! Not for long, of course. They were off to Alpha Cen not long after. But seeing Pasadena one last time, albeit for only a few days, still dominated Zach’s thoughts.
The rest of the group awoke and helped Erik out of his pod. Mabel did a quick examination, peeling back his bandages and whispering under her breath as she dragged her finger along deep scars. “The cuts have almost entirely healed.”
Erik touched his stump. A pained look crossed his face. “When can I walk again?” The question would have seemed impossible to answer if not for Mabel’s comment on the morning of his surgery.
“Oh! And I found a prosthetic. A really good one. I can’t fit it to his leg yet, because of the swelling, but it’ll work great once he heals.”
Zach mentioned it, and Mabel confirmed that Erik could be ready. “You want to go see? I’ll get your crutches.” She handed them to Erik. “Hopefully, you won’t need them after we finish.”
Erik rubbed the sleep from his eyes and nodded. “Yeah… okay.”
While Mabel escorted him out of the room, Ryker pulled on his bomber jacket and waited until they were gone to speak. “You think what’s-his-face is going to let us off easy?”
“Carver? I wouldn’t be worried about it. Once he sees the irogen, he’ll realize we were right.”
“Is he getting a seat on the ship?” Ryker asked. “To Alpha Cen.”
“It’s not my choice, so I have no clue,” Zach admitted. He was conflicted. On on hand, Carver had filled the role of Zach’s father in those terrible years following Quinton’s death. He wasn’t obligated to; he could have just written Zach off as someone else’s responsibility. And yet he looked over Zach anyway—guiding him through life, ensuring he stayed positive after such a tragedy—all while Quinton’s corpse was floating in space. Part of Zach would always appreciate that. But on the other hand, he had lied about Ryker. And who knew what else?
Zach stopped himself before saying any more. Who lived and died wasn’t up to him. But if not him, who would make the tough choices? It then occurred to Zach that deciding who got a seat went far beyond Nicolas Carver. Of six billion people, he could only take a thousand. He had known it since the beginning but always brushed it off as an issue for tomorrow.
Well, tomorrow had finally come.
If Carver hadn’t been so stubborn all those years, maybe they could have taken more people. But the past was in the past, and there was nothing he could do. “Look, we have at least a few months until the flare hits. We’ll pick from OSE personnel, qualified parties.”
“And that includes…?”
“I haven’t gotten that far yet.” Though Zach knew Cora would be included. It was a given. Which of his colleagues would also get a spot, he didn’t know.
Unsatisfied with the answer but too tired to care, Ryker shrugged. “Let’s go to the medbay and check on the others.”
Zach thought more about the Carver situation as they marched down the corridor. Would things between them return to normal? Or better yet, did he want things to go back to the way they were? Yes, was the simple answer. He would welcome returning to a simpler time when solar flares weren’t killing thousands every week. A time when Zach’s most significant worries were how long it would take to cook dinner and review calculations at the same time. A time when he could depend on Carver. Sure, he would love that more than anything in the world. But to return with all the knowledge he had now? That was a different story.
He knew things now. He was less naive. And he didn’t think it was possible to return to bliss when he was no longer so ignorant.
As they approached the medbay, a cheer echoed through the door. They entered to find Mabel with both arms raised above her head and an enormous smile on her face. Zach was about to ask what was so exciting when he noticed Erik taking a few shaky steps on the far side of the room. A bafflingly futuristic prosthetic leg was strapped to his stump.
Mabel noticed them standing in the doorway and pointed at Erik. “Look, look! He’s controlling it with his brain!” Was he? A short inspection suggested there were no pulleys or wires. “It interfaced with his nerves. Thank God they weren’t too damaged!”
“Are you sure he should be walking on two feet?” Zach asked. “Doesn’t it hurt?”
“A little, but it’s okay,” said Erik. He took several steps back, then forward, testing his new leg’s ability to bear weight. “I can feel the floor.”
“Can you?” Mabel said excitedly.
“Through the toes.” He wiggled his metallic foot, then reached down to feel it.
“Incredible.” Mabel looked at Zach. “Just incredible. I don’t even know how this is possible… were things this advanced in 2030?”
“Apparently,” said Zach. “Now come on. Let’s go to the ground.”
Their way to the ground was simple. On board the station, seven or eight vacant dropships were still waiting to be used. It was a shame they couldn’t use the one they came up on, seeing as it had flown back to Earth by itself, but the others were identical, so it didn’t particularly matter. When they reached the docking bay, the massive blast door slid open and gave way into the deck. All along the walls were airlocks leading into the dropships. Seven had green indicator lights above them, while the other three shone red.
“It’s going to be a surprise when they see us,” Mabel commented, touching the glass of one airlock. “They probably think we’re dead.”
Ryker frowned. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Come on. Let’s get ourselves set up,” said Zach.
“Wait. I… don’t know if I want to go back yet,” Erik said slowly.
Zach squinted. “Why? What’s the matter? Don’t you want to go home?”
“Home, no home, Earth, Mars. It doesn’t matter. It’s been a long time, and I can’t imagine going back.”
“I thought the same thing,” assured Ryker. “It’ll get better.”
Erik cocked his head. “That’s not what you said on Mars.”
“Well, maybe I was wrong.”
“If not the ground, where will you go?” Zach asked Erik.
“If you’ll allow me to, I’ll stay here. I promise I won’t mess with anything. And besides, I’ve lived up here before. With the colonists. There shouldn’t be much difference.”
Ryker shot Zach a look of disapproval. “We’re not leaving him here alone.”
“It could be good, having an eye in the sky while we’re gone.”
“No way.”
“Why? You were here for years and fared okay,” Zach said, not realizing how distasteful his words must have seemed. He didn’t mean for them to be malicious or spiteful, but Ryker appeared to see them that way.
“Alright. You’re the captain; you decide what we do. It’s not like I’ve done anything to get us here—”
“I just meant you were able to survive on your—”
“Oh, I know what you meant. You’re just so ready to leave another person up here.”
“I didn’t leave you here.”
“Then who did?”
“DOCKING PROCEDURE ACTIVATED,” the intercom blared. The lights above them turned yellow.
“What was that?” Mabel backstepped toward the exit, feeling for the door. “What does that mean?”
Zach didn’t know what to say. He watched as one of the indicator lights went from red to a pale blue before it went dark altogether. “Something’s docking.”
Yes, that’s what it meant. A ship was latching onto the station. But who could it be? As Zach’s eyes scanned the room, he barely had time to register what was happening. “Everybody move!”
The floor rattled as the mystery ship locked in. The lights shifted to a blood red. Zach stepped back, putting as much distance between himself and the airlocks as possible.
Then, all went silent. Even the machine hum seemed to tune in. After an excruciating wait, one of the blast doors inched open with a gust of steam. Shapes manifested in the gas.
People.
As the smoke began to clear, a man stepped in. He wore dark clothing and walked with a confidence Zach had only seen in one person.
Carver.
He considered the dock for a moment, then noticed Zach. His eyes went wide. “Zach?”
Zach was too shocked to form words. A dozen questions raced through his mind. How did they get here? Why are they here? Who did they bring? But then it struck him.
He knew why they were there.
Zach collected himself and solemnly asked, “Who survived?”
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