by Ralph Prince
“It won’t take long,” he insisted. “I’ve got my portable sensor, and it’s only a kilometer or so away. Besides, you know me well enough to realize I can take care of myself. Over.”
“You stubborn jackass,” she said, issuing a heavy sigh. “All right, but no heroics. Remember, that sensor only has a range of thirty meters. Stay in touch, and above all, be careful. Over.”
“Wilco, mother,” he said, smiling one of his rare smiles and brushing the dust from his hair. “Captain out.”
Putting the communication device in passive mode, he began his trek across the hard, gray ground. From the northwest, a gusting breeze stirred up dust devils, which danced and frolicked, before settling once again to the ground. Dark clouds began to gather on the horizon, warning of the approach of inclement weather. Undaunted, he continued toward the towering stone rise.
As he walked, he paused periodically to inspect the flora, and to collect small samples and sensor readings for future study. He was amazed by their similarity to the vegetation of Earth. Of all the worlds he had seen in his travels, none so closely resembled his home planet. Were it not for the marked lack of water, the planet could have been Earth’s twin; he found it reminiscent of Mars during the early stages of terraforming. By the time he reached the base of the rise, he had collected a large assortment of specimens.
He stood at the foot of the slope, gazing upon the steep, but manageable, incline. The ascent would be challenging due to the layers of loose scree covering the face. Even his friction-grip boots would afford him little traction on such a surface. He silently cursed himself for not thinking to bring any water; his mouth felt as dry as the ground at his feet. At least the thermal-weave fabric of his flight suit regulated the temperature, keeping him somewhat comfortable despite the arid heat.
Clearing his parched throat, he contacted the ship. “Captain to bridge,” he said, “I’m about to begin my climb. It’s kind of steep and there’s a fair amount of loose rock, so I’ll need both hands free. I’ll keep the communication channel open. Is everything okay there? Over.”
“Negative Don,” Jackie’s worried voice returned, “I think you better get back here as soon as possible. Nav-Tac says the wind is beginning to pick up, and a storm of some kind is eminent. The blowing dust is wreaking havoc with the sensor beams, and we’ve lost visual contact with you twice already. Over.”
“Relax, Jackie,” he said, “I’ve come this far, and there’s no sense in turning back now. I’ll be back at the ship in thirty minutes, and you’ll feel silly for being so concerned over nothing. Just have a tall glass of ice-cold water waiting for me when I return. Over.”
“Roger,” she agreed hesitantly. “But for the record, I’m against this. We’ll be watching out for you as best we can. Out.”
He knew she would have protested further had he not been so insistent, but he felt her concern was unwarranted. He assumed the death of her brother was what made her overcautious. He understood the fear of losing someone you cared for; it had happened to him more than once.
He couldn’t afford to let the dark thoughts creep in upon him now, so he quickly tucked them into the dark recesses of his mind and began his ascent toward the crater’s rim.
CHAPTER 9: Encounter
The blurry image on the front viewing screen followed the captain’s progress via his heads-up display, while the crewmembers sat nervously at their stations, watchful for any indication of trouble. Now at the midpoint of his climb, it appeared he was correct in calling Jackie’s concern unwarranted.
“Nav-Tac,” Will said, squinting at the hazy picture, “are you sure you can’t sharpen the image more than that?”
“Affirmative, Will,” Nav-Tac responded, casually using the lieutenant’s given name. “The graininess is caused by dust particles on the optics of the captain’s heads-up display. Although my ability to enhance a monitor image through extrapolation is exceptional, there is little I can do with as poor a signal as I am receiving. I apologize for my inadequacies in that regard.”
“There’s no need to apologize,” Will said. “I know you’re doing your best. Just keep scanning the area around the captain and report anything out of the ordinary.”
“Affirmative,” said Nav-Tac.
“What’s the status on that storm?” Jackie asked, frustrated at her inability to do anything except sit and wait while the computer did her job.
“It is bearing down quickly from the west-northwest,” Nav-Tac reported. “The wind is already beginning to increase, and I estimate wind speeds will reach in excess of fifty kilometers per hour. The brunt of the storm will reach our location in less than an hour.”
“I shouldn’t worry about him,” Jackie said, more to herself than to anyone else, “but someday his luck may just run out.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Will assured, wishing he knew some way to ease her concern. “He has the best eyes on the ship watching over him, and he should be back long before the storm hits. Besides, he still has his sack of miracles.”
“You’re right,” she admitted. “It’s just that he’s so damned impulsive at times, it worries me. I know Don can take care of himself.”
“Lieutenant Monet,” Nav-Tac said, the urgency in his voice resounded loudly throughout the bridge. “I have detected an unidentified life form reading in the vicinity of the captain. I am unable to ascertain its exact nature, but it is definitely moving toward him.”
“How far from him is it?” she demanded, searching the screen for any sign of it. The captain was only meters from the top of the rise as the picture began to waver.
“Approximately five meters,” Nav-Tac reported promptly, “and closing. It seems to be just over the peak. I am losing the external monitor pictures due to wind-blown soil particles, and the captain is facing the wrong direction for the heads-up to see it.”
“Don!” Jackie shouted into the transmitter, ignoring normal communication protocol. “Get out of there, fast!”
Will rose from his chair. He could barely make out anything in the rapidly deteriorating image on the front monitor. “He just drew his blaster, I think.”
“Don!” Jackie yelled in desperation, also rising. The image from his heads-up display was nearly all gray due to contamination of the optics.
“Visual contact lost,” reported Nav-Tac as the main image pixilated into chromatic snow. “Sensors are also deteriorating due to electro-magnetic interference from the storm. The captain and the life form are now in close proximity.”
“Has he fired his blaster yet?” Will asked, turning sharply toward the control console.
“Negative,” Nav-Tac replied. “The life-form appears to be in contact with him. They have traversed the peak and are now on the other side. I have lost contact with the captain.”
“Don?” Jackie cried, tears welling in her emerald eyes. The readout from his biochip displayed a series of flat lines. “Don, respond! Damn it! Respond!”
For several minutes, she continued trying to raise him on the communicator. She could not accept that he was gone; he couldn’t be. Time and again, she called out to him. The only reply was silence. Finally, her shoulders slumped, and she buried her face in her trembling hands, weeping.
Will slowly crossed the bridge and hesitantly placed a compassionate hand upon her shoulder. “I’m sure he’s all right,” he said.
“His communicator must have malfunctioned,” she rationalized. “That’s why we’re not receiving his biochip signal. He’s probably on his way back to the ship right now.”
“I’m sure he’s alright,” Will repeated without conviction, his heart aching because he could not find the words that would bring her solace.
Seeking comfort, Jackie turned and embraced him. She wept into his shoulder, clinging tightly to him as though he were the only substantial object in the universe. She was more afraid now than she had ever been before. She had come to rely upon Don and his timely miracles. Now, she was lost, with no way home, and he
was gone.
“I’m sorry,” Will said, gently enfolding her in his arms, “but there’s still hope.”
“He should have fired his blaster,” she sobbed.
“Nav-Tac?” he asked hopefully.
“Negative,” Nav-Tac reported softly. “There was no weapon discharge. I am still unable to get a sensor reading.”
“I know how much he must have meant to you,” Will consoled, realizing the futility of his words. He didn’t know the proper things to say. How could he? He didn’t know her pain. He had never really cared for anyone the way she cared for the captain. He never knew his mother, and had never seen eye-to-eye with his father. His so-called romances were nothing more than meaningless trysts with bored socialites he squandered his father’s money on. He had never truly cared for anyone save himself, and had never had genuine cause to grieve over a loved one. For the first time, he realized how lonely and pathetic his life was.
“We have to do something,” Jackie sobbed.
“There’s nothing we can do now,” Will said, shaking his head. “He’s gone.”
For minutes that seemed like hours, they stood embraced in one another’s arms. Her low sobs rent his soul, filling him with consuming sadness and compassion, as he had never felt before. He soothed her gently, stroking her soft hair, and attempting to ease her sorrow at the loss of a longtime friend.
Then, she slowly pulled away and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “I’m going out there,” she said, her voice quivering over every word. “I’m going to kill that bastard.”
“Jackie,” he protested, grasping her arm as she turned away, “that won’t get the captain back, but it could get you killed. I don’t want to see that happen.”
“Leaving the ship would be inadvisable due to the weather,” Nav-Tac interjected. “The approaching storm is producing strong lightning and high winds, and will be upon us in minutes. Not only would you be unlikely to find the captain out there in such conditions, you would most certainly become lost yourself.”
“I’m going!” she asserted loudly, forcibly freeing herself from Will’s grip. Her face was flushed with anger as she briskly marched from the bridge with resolute determination.
“Jackie,” Will called, rushing past her to block her way, “be reasonable.”
“Get out of my way, Porter,” she warned through clenched teeth. Her swollen eyes burned with unbridled fury. “Don’s out there somewhere, either injured or dead. I intend to find out which, and blow the hell out of whatever did it to him. If necessary, I’ll go through you to do it.”
They stood, for a moment, locked eye-to-eye. Neither was willing to give any ground. Finally, realizing the futility in trying to prevent her from going, Will stepped aside and let her pass.
“At least let me go with you,” he pleaded, following her into the ship’s supply room. “I would rather die with you out there than spend my life alone on this ship with only Nav-Tac for company.”
Wordlessly, she pulled a tactical belt from a cabinet and tossed it toward him. Donning one herself, she opened the weapon locker and shoved a photon blaster into the holster and tossed one to him. Removing a photon rifle, she slung it over her shoulder.
“I wish you would reconsider,” Will said, declining the rifle she offered him. “The storms probably upon us by now, and Nav-Tac’s right; all we’re going to accomplish is getting ourselves lost or killed out there. We need to calm down and think this through. We need a plan.”
“What do you suggest we do?” she snapped. “Wait? Don could still be alive out there. He could be injured and in need of medical attention.” She pushed past him and headed toward the door.
“Then where are your medical supplies?” Will demanded, causing her to pause. “You’re not thinking this through. You’re upset and irrational. I can understand—”
“I’m not irrational,” she interrupted. “I’m just trying to save Don.”
“I just don’t know if it’s worth the risk,” he said, pleading to her sensibility. “We could both end up dead. And for what?”
“Don is worth the risk,” she cried, the tears returning. “He would do the same for either of us, without a second thought. If you want to stay behind, I’ll understand. But he’s my friend, and I can’t leave him out there. I just can’t.”
He hesitated a moment before speaking. He owed nothing to the captain, or to her. Why should he risk his life when he had nothing to gain? It was like his father had told him long ago, “The strong survive because they never do anything for nothing.” Then again, his father was the reason he was here. He didn’t want to be like his father.
“Let’s go,” he said. “The captain needs us.”
Grabbing a medical kit, protective goggles, and several other items, the two crewmembers equipped themselves for the excursion into the hostile wasteland beyond the ship’s walls. Then, satisfied they had everything they would need, they marched purposefully to the port air lock.
Will paused suddenly before the massive metal door, his fingers hovering centimeters away from the air lock control panel. His face paled, and he shuddered visibly as he stepped backward keeping his eyes glued to the inner hatch.
“What is it?” asked Jackie, perceiving the sudden change in his demeanor. “Let’s get going.”
“The decontamination indicator light’s on,” he answered uneasily. “Someone, or something, is in the air lock.”
“It must be Don,” Jackie said excitedly. “He’s still alive.”
“I certainly hope it’s him,” Will said. “I don’t like the alternative.”
Stepping away from the hatch, the two waited impatiently for the decontamination procedure to run its full cycle. With their weapons ready, they watched as the door slid slowly aside. Both gasped at what stood beyond.
The captain stood covered, head to toe, in fine gray powder, his pain-laden face nearly hidden behind a gruesome mask of blood and dirt. His flight suit hung in tatters from his muscular body, displaying dozens of jagged, bloody lacerations beneath. The crimson life-fluid mingled with the dust, forming a viscous burgundy sludge. He had the appearance of a man who had gone through hell and back, and then had gone back for more. Even more shocking then his appearance was the burden he coddled in his weary arms.
To all outward appearances, it was human, and unmistakably female. She sagged motionless in the captain’s arms, clad in a filthy leather skapri, a fur-trimmed lace-up leather vest, and a pair of cuffed boots. Her exposed flesh, also veiled in gray dust, suffered wounds similar to, though not so severe as, the captain’s. The knotted tresses of her long hair were matted down on one temple by a congealing mixture of soil and blood.
“Jackie,” the captain said weakly, leaning against the bulkhead for support, “get a medical pack and meet me in my quarters.”
CHAPTER 10: Not So Alien
Porter sat reclined in his chair, lost in thought as soft music issued from the bridge’s immersive acoustic system. He pondered his current situation and wondered if he would ever see his home again. He thought of his family and friends, and wondered if they would even miss him if he didn’t return.
His only real family was his father, a brilliant but cold man who seemed forever disappointed in his son. Porter rarely saw his estranged progenitor while growing up, as business needs superseded family ties. If he never returned, his father would lose an heir to his financial empire, but little else, as personal prestige was his only love.
He had never known his mother. His father had always told him that she had died in childbirth, but eventually, he learned the truth. A woman approached him on the street one day and claimed to be his mother. She told a wild story of how he was born out of wedlock to a trillionaire father and a professional escort. When she tried to get financial assistance in raising their son, she was persecuted and the child was taken away from her to be raised by his father, while she was left destitute to live on the streets. When he asked his father about the validity of the woman’s claims, he w
as told the past was not important and to leave it alone. He was unable to find evidence to support or dispute the woman’s claims, and never saw her again; though, in his heart he knew she spoke the truth.
He was raised by androsynth nannies, as his father had little time for family matters. The state of the art artificial humans saw that he was provided for and educated, but lacked the affection to nurture a child as a mother could. He recalled a day early in his childhood when his first nanny was to be replaced by an updated model. He hugged her and told her that he loved her and wanted her to stay. Without a word, she turned and walked away at his father’s command, his cries of anguish falling on deaf, emotionless ears. It was one of his earliest memories.
All his “friends” were from wealthy families, and, like his father, believed financial worth and social standing were paramount. They were only interested in him because of his father’s money and power.
No, he decided, there wouldn’t be anyone to mourn his passing if he never returned to Earth. That bothered the young lieutenant. In all his life, he never had a real friend or a true love. He was always surrounded by mask-wearing socialites, pretending to like him because it was the socially correct thing to do. The Space Force wasn’t like that. His classmates at the academy regarded him as an outsider, calling him pampered and implying that his father’s money had bought him an easy ride and his exemplary grades. They mocked him, calling him “Three”, and never invited him to off-duty social gatherings. He was treated like a leper due to his privileged upbringing. Even in the research and development department, his peers were condescending toward him, despite his invaluable contributions to Nav-Tac’s development. He was certain they were jealous of his accomplishments, and therefore ostracized him. Here, on the Nova, he wasn’t yet sure where he fit in.
Though, at first, the captain didn’t seem to like him, he felt there was a growing respect between them. The commander had even told him he did “good work” in repairing the equipment on the bridge. He couldn’t recall ever being praised by his father. And there was Jackie. Though she frequently made jests about his social status, he felt her opinion of him wasn’t swayed, for good or bad, by his father’s money. There was something special about her. She was unlike the other women he had known. She wasn’t stunningly beautiful, but rather possessed a pleasing natural beauty that transcended the genetically altered facades he was used to. She was smart; smarter than anyone he had ever dated. She was possibly the most intelligent woman he had ever known. She was funny in a clever sarcastic sort of way. She conversed about interesting topics, not just the latest trends or society gossip. She intrigued him. She was ... intimidating. He didn’t know how to approach someone like her. She would see through his normal pick-up lines as though they were glass. Besides, what would she see in him while someone like the captain was around? He was heroic, fearless, and larger-than-life, how could he compete with a paragon?
