Obscura

by Joe Hart

  The thought of making a call brought her to her feet. Leo would be in Quad Two now. Even if she couldn’t get NASA to order Carson to turn the ship around, she could at least get the ball rolling on pressing charges against everyone who had lied to her.

  Tinsel.

  The nameless unease she’d felt before returned, this time clarifying and causing her to pause at the threshold of the berth. When they’d bumped into each other, Tinsel hadn’t been coming from the direction of the main hall. He’d been traveling the other way.

  From the direction of her room.

  Gillian turned in a slow circle, glancing around the space. Was anything out of place? Anything missing? But what was there to take? Her extra jumpsuits? Besides the hydros, there wasn’t anything else she’d—

  She swallowed. Had he done something to the pills? Maybe to keep her compliant in her room? No. They’d seemed fine when she took them, and the rest of the bottle was still mostly full.

  She rubbed a hand across her forehead, finding a thin film of sweat there. This was one way to break an addiction: Blast off to a space station where a mysterious murder has taken place and the workers are exhibiting signs of a life-threatening neurological disease. It’s the newest in extreme treatment plans!

  She sighed, trying to quell the frantic thoughts. Quit worrying about Tinsel and Carson. You’re not here for them anymore. You never really were. You’re here for Carrie. You’re here for your daughter.

  Gillian nodded to herself, the old mantra beginning to play on repeat in her mind as she let herself out of the room and strode down the hall.

  Concentration and will. Concentration and will.

  SIXTEEN

  She found Leo sitting before one of the pedestal consoles reading a book.

  As she neared, he set it aside, and she recognized the cover immediately, the cymbal-chiming monkey with dead eyes staring at her out of her own literary memory.

  “Skeleton Crew, huh?” she asked, nodding toward the paperback.

  Leo’s face reddened as he stood. “My wife says I’m a grown man, a doctor, an astronaut, and I’m too damn old to be reading King’s stuff, but I’m a fan through and through.”

  “Preaching to the choir,” Gillian said, allowing a smile. “I’ve read everything of his.”

  Leo beamed at her. “Now we know we can trust each other.” They both laughed a little before he motioned to the seat he’d vacated. “Sit down and I’ll get comms fired up.” She sat as Leo pivoted the pedestal toward him and began typing on the touchscreen. “It’s about two a.m. in Houston, but someone is always awake. A word of warning, though: since the mission has clandestine features, all communication is routed through the command operatives in charge. We won’t be getting mission control, it’ll be someone else.”

  “And by someone else you mean . . .”

  “Since the space station and everything around us has been funded partially by the UN, you’ll be speaking to one of their representatives who’s ‘in the know.’”

  “So not an actual human being.”

  “Not really. No.” Leo squinted at the screen before turning it back to her. “We’re recording and it’s uplinking.”

  The monitor displayed a rotating half circle in its center. It spun, first hypnotizing, then sickening, until she felt as if she were no longer on the ship but lost in the spiraling crescent, everything falling away, as Birk had said.

  The screen blazed to life, a man’s face filling up its entirety. His blond hair was styled in a tight crew cut, and his sallow-skinned, hollow cheeks made him appear as if he were recovering from extreme starvation.

  His face remained blank as he studied her across the massive distance of space before sitting back from his own screen. “Hello, Dr. Ryan.”

  She was so stunned by the stranger saying her name, she struggled for a moment before finding her voice. “Who are you?”

  There was a short lag before he said, “My name is John. I’ll be your communications liaison.” His voice was deep and toneless.

  “John. Got a last name?”

  “Just John.”

  “All right, John, I’d like to file a formal complaint against Carson LeCroix, Lien Zhou, and Gregory Tinsel.”

  “I suppose this is concerning your new destination?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

  “I’m your lifeline in case things go south. If there is a pertinent threat to the mission, I will act accordingly.”

  “So you’re the broom sweeping everything under the rug.”

  “Let me put it this way: there is nothing, and I mean nothing, more important than the success of this undertaking.”

  Gillian felt her face flush, anger welling to the surface. “More important than lying to me, separating me from my daughter, who’s ill?”

  “Judging by the records I have, you volunteered. No one forced you.”

  “I didn’t agree to this and you know it.”

  “I understand your frustration, but I’m afraid it’s out of my hands.”

  She paused, trying to calm the fray of her thoughts. “I want to speak to my daughter and my sister. I need to tell them what happened.”

  “When the time comes, your sister will be informed that there’s been a problem with the space station’s comms and that we’re working to get it fixed.”

  “I want to see my daughter.” Her voice came out heavy and unfamiliar.

  John looked to the left, not meeting her gaze. “I’m very sorry. That won’t be possible. But as long as you do what you pledged and make this mission a success, you’ll not only be a hero, you’ll get to spend a long life with Carrie.” John smiled, and it was a cold mockery of a grin. “Nice chatting, Dr. Ryan. Feel free to call again, the line’s always open.”

  The display flickered to black, and for several seconds Gillian couldn’t get herself to move.

  He’d known Carrie’s name.

  The fact made her nauseous. When she managed to look at Leo, he was pale and frowning. His hand trembled when he touched her shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sorry, Gillian.”

  She swallowed. “It’s not your fault. Thank you for this. I . . .” She trailed off, the throb of a headache beginning behind her left eye. Until that point, she had harbored the hope, small as it had been, that NASA would agree to turn the ship around and let her return to Earth, return to Carrie. But amid the simmering fear brought on by the conversation with John, there was a cold finality to the words she spoke to Leo.

  “I’m trapped.”

  SEVENTEEN

  Over seven miles a second.

  Each breath, that much farther away.

  In the early hours of what counted for morning, Gillian showered and dressed slowly in a fresh jumpsuit, all the while eyeing the bottle of pills in the bathroom. She’d resisted its pull, not without a fight, and settled onto the bed to wait, trying to meditate and calm the churning sea within her.

  A chirp came from a small box near the door, followed by Carson’s voice. “Gillian, it’s time.”

  When she didn’t respond, she heard him sigh and wondered what he’d do if she refused to leave the room. But there was no point in rebellion now. She’d made up her mind, and besides, Birk would be waiting for her.

  She still couldn’t get used to the quiet of the corridor, or any of the ship for that matter. It was like having cotton stuffed in her ears, every sound much softer than it should have been. When she rounded the corner near Birk’s room, she saw he was already waiting for her outside. His eyes found hers, and she nearly faltered. They were red, the whites completely gone in a solid layer of ruptured blood vessels. His skin was chalk white, and a layer of sweat beaded near his temples.

  “Oh God, you look terrible,” she said, stopping before him.

  “Always the confidence booster.”

  “I mean it. You need to have Leo look at you.”

  “He stopped by this morning.”

  “And?”

  “He said at this point the
best thing will be stasis. I have to agree. Anything to escape . . .” He shot a quick glance at the closed berth door.

  “What?”

  Birk struggled with something before dropping his gaze to the floor. “I saw my uncle Axel. He was standing in the bathroom doorway when I woke.” His gaze flicked to hers and away again, and she noticed his accent was much thicker than before. “He beat me when I was a child. He knew that I was gay before I understood myself. He would strike me in places my . . . clothes covered, and I was terrified to tell anyone. My mother eventually realized what was happening and forbid him from our home. He died in a traffic collision ten years ago. But I saw him this morning, and he was . . . smiling at me.”

  Gillian tried to swallow the knot in her throat and placed a hand to Birk’s forehead. “You have a fever.”

  He nodded, a tear slipping down the side of his nose. “I pray that is the cause.”

  “Come on,” she said, leading him away from the door while giving it a last look.

  When they entered Quad Two, she was struck by a wave of disorientation. The wall to the right of the doorway and control pedestals was gone, revealing another chamber with an arched ceiling extending back twenty yards. Along the hidden chamber’s wall were a dozen rounded, coffinlike protrusions made from thick plastic, which angled away from the walking area before them. Seven of them were open, the top halves folded up, revealing a molded white interior in the general shape of a person. Carson stood before the closest one in a formfitting bodysuit, each muscle starkly defined through the thin material. He held a digital pad, and as they entered, his attention rose from the screen to them.

  “Hi,” he said, moving closer.

  “Hey,” Gillian returned. Birk remained silent, but she could feel anger rolling off him, and she noticed Carson stayed several paces out of the Swede’s reach.

  “Okay, the stasis units are all calibrated, and your suits are in the lockers opposite the units. Your names are on the foot of each one.” He looked like he was about to say more when the door behind them opened, and Lien, followed by Easton and Leo, entered the room with Tinsel trailing behind. All of them wore the same type of suit as Carson, and Tinsel’s appeared to be bothering him because he continued to pick and preen at his left sleeve even as the group gathered around them.

  “Glad everyone’s here,” Carson said. “I was just running Gillian and Birk through stasis protocol. So once your suits are on, Leo will—”

  “I won’t need mine,” Gillian said.

  Silence flooded the room. Carson frowned and said, “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not going into stasis.”

  “Gillian, listen. I know you’re upset, and you have full right to be, but this isn’t an option.”

  “It’s how it’s going to be.”

  “No. It’s not. It’s a full two and a half months before we reach the UNSS. That’s seventy-five days of isolation.”

  “Thanks, Carson, I can count.”

  “You’re not trained for it.”

  “Then you should have thought about that before you lied to me.”

  Carson blinked, his gaze roving over the rest of the group before he finally shrugged. “I’m sorry, it’s not possible.”

  “You know what won’t be possible? Determining exactly what’s happening to the people on that station without my help. How am I supposed to do that?” She stepped closer to him. “If you want me to help these people, I need to stay awake and work on the neuron-mapping procedure. What if the shifting turns out to be an utter failure and there’s no application for my daughter? Right now all I have is time. You can’t take two more months from me.”

  She stared into his eyes, daring him to contradict her. After several seconds of drawn silence, Carson looked away and gestured over her shoulder. “Leo, show her medical in case she hurts herself while we’re asleep.”

  “You can show us both,” Birk said, turning to follow her. “I am staying awake as well.”

  “You’re too sick,” Gillian said.

  “I will be fine.” But even as he spoke, he swayed slightly to one side.

  She placed a hand on his arm. “You need to sleep. When you wake up, everything will be all right.”

  “Doctor—”

  “Birk . . .” She squeezed his arm. “It’s okay.”

  Defeated, Birk lowered his head.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said.

  Leo led her away from the group toward the opposite wall of the quad, and as she passed Tinsel, his gaze snagged hers, and he leaned in close, whispering as he did, “Make sure to ease off those pills slowly. I’ve heard withdrawal can be brutal.” She froze, and he smiled. “Oh, and John’s always there if you need to talk.” He winked.

  Gillian slammed her fist into the side of his head.

  Tinsel went sprawling, trying to catch himself, and the room erupted in a chorus of shouts. Someone grabbed her from behind, and blind with rage, she nearly swung an elbow back at whoever it was before Leo began saying, “Hey, take it easy. Calm down.”

  Easton steadied Tinsel, who glared at her, one hand pressed to where she’d struck him. Carson stepped between the two groups, his arms outstretched. “What the fuck, Gillian? What the hell are you doing?”

  She tried to form the words, but as she looked at Carson, a new anger overtook her. “Don’t act like you don’t know. You’re both in on it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The guy I spoke to at mission control wouldn’t let me talk to Carrie or Katrina.”

  Carson’s face constricted in a frown. “You should have let me speak with them first. They’re under orders not to allow any contact until you’re fully briefed about the situation.”

  “And what is the situation?”

  Instead of answering her, Carson turned to Tinsel. “What did you say to her?”

  “To be careful during the trip. Then she went crazy.”

  “Liar,” Gillian said.

  “Stop it, both of you,” Carson said. He glanced from one of them to the other for a moment before pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Easton, Lien—get Tinsel and Mr. Lindqvist prepped. Leo, take her to medical.”

  Gillian watched Tinsel throw her another look of disdain before he was ushered away toward the waiting stasis chambers. She felt Leo touch the inside of her arm, and she jerked it away, not wanting anyone’s hands on her. The receding adrenaline had left a dry, acidic taste in her mouth, as if she’d licked a nine-volt, and an irritating weakness in her muscles.

  “Sorry,” he said, motioning in the direction they’d been going when Tinsel had stopped her. “This way.”

  At the other end, the quad’s wall, which looked seamless at first glance, opened in the center when Leo scanned his key card across a flush panel mounted to one side of the gap. “Anyone’s key will open the med bay,” he said, stepping inside a room half as large as the stasis area. There were two medical beds on the left flanked by stainless-steel cabinets, while the opposite side held a long counter hollowed at the far end by a deep sink.

  “General first aid is there,” Leo said, placing his hand on a low locker across from the first bed. “There’s also kits on each outer corridor of the quads if you can’t make it here. If you’re in real trouble, you can wake one or all of us from stasis. The process takes nearly an hour, but don’t hesitate if need be.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “There’s a command pad on the side of each unit. You just have to press the ‘Wake’ option. Everything else is automated.” Leo studied her. “You’re sure about this?”

  She wasn’t, but she couldn’t let even the slightest hint of hesitation show through. If this was her only choice, she was going to make use of every second she had. Gillian summoned false composure and tried to smile. “I am.”

  Leo nodded and glanced at the floor. “I’m sorry about what happened in there. What did Tinsel say to you?”

  “He . . .” She fumbled for a split
second, almost mentioning something about the pills. “He said to call John if I needed to talk.”

  “Bastard,” Leo grunted. “Never liked him.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  They were quiet for a moment before Leo straightened, talking almost to himself. “What else? All the food is stored in the lounge near the kitchenette. There’s enough there for all of us for the entire round-trip journey and then some, so you won’t starve. The flight systems are automated and locked, so there’s no changing course in case you considered that.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t try to turn us around. Probably end up driving us into an asteroid belt or something.”

  “Yeah, that would be particularly bad. There are instructions for how to contact Earth near the farthest console out there in control.” He held up his hands. “I know you’ll only be able to speak to that John or someone else like him, but if something happens, it’s not only our hides on the line, it’s theirs as well. We all have to answer to someone. Remember that.”

  “Thanks, Leo. I mean it.”

  “It’s nothing. Wish I could do more.”

  “Really, I don’t know how much time I’ll be spending outside of the lab. I’ll have more dedicated days than I’ve ever had before in one stretch.”

  “Just remember to take a break from time to time. I know you had a crash course before coming up here, but the psychological concerns of isolation in space are very real. The mind is an endless maze, and a person can easily get lost there.”

  She considered asking him then if he could give her some additional pills to get through the coming months but just as quickly dismissed the idea. It would be suspicious to ask for more when she still had so many. “Don’t worry, I’ll have plenty to keep myself busy with.”

  He gave her an appraising look before smiling. “I don’t doubt you will. Come on, I’ll show you around stasis, and you can say good night to everyone.”

  “I’m sure Tinsel will appreciate that.”

  Leo laughed as he passed her, and she was about to follow him out of the med bay when something caught her eye. It was a lighter area on the back wall of the room, and it took her a second to realize she was seeing another doorway set seamlessly into the partition.