Vessel

by Andrew J. Morgan

  'That's about a big enough space to fit a quad-bike,' he said, and Aleks looked down to see a pair of faint tyre tracks. He followed them with his eyes; they headed towards a barn poking up between the cleft of two hills about a half-mile away. As he watched, the wind picked up, and the faint buzz of an engine blew in with it.

  * * *

  Even through the pain, Sean continued to cry out, his throat dry and his lungs burning. If he stopped, he knew he would miss that one fleeting chance to get someone's attention, someone who would continue on their way without ever knowing he was there, tied up, alone. He was sure that his bindings were indeed loosening: his right hand moved further into the loop of rope now than it had done when he had first awoken. But he'd passed the numb phase, and now the raw agony doubled with every attempt to pull his hand through.

  'Hello …?' he yelled with weak indignation, coughing the last syllable into the fuggy air. So expectant was he not to hear a response that he braced his throat for another yell, almost missing the sound of a small engine buzzing towards him. He held his breath, concentrating hard to hear if the noise was getting louder — it was. A jolt of excitement fired him up, and he slid his way up the post to stand upright, his joints and wrists screaming in unison. Hopefully it was a farmer coming to get something from his shed, who would then discover him and free him, but even as he thought it, he knew it wasn't true.

  The engine got louder — a bike engine perhaps — and it pulled up outside. It cut out, and footsteps headed his way. The small crack of light went dark, and the sound of a chain being unthreaded from between two metal handles clattered in his ears. Sean had wanted to be found, had been calling out to be found, but now he held his breath as he waited in terror, knowing that whoever had the key to the chain's lock would surely be the same person that locked him up in the first place.

  The door opened, flooding a blinding white sunlight in, and he turned his head away until his eyes adjusted. Cautiously, he looked back, and the doorway dimmed as the silhouette of a figure filled it, walking towards him with slow, easy strides.

  'I wondered when we'd finally meet,' the voice said.

  'I know who you are,' Sean said with as much ferocity as he could muster, despite his stinging throat.

  'I don't doubt that, not for a second. In fact I'm glad you know who I am. That means you know I'm serious.'

  Sean looked at the man, catching a flash of grey hair atop a tanned face, set with narrow, piercing eyes. 'Bales …' he whispered.

  Bales, hands clasped behind his back, did not stop in front of Sean. He continued walking, wandering around Sean, circling him. 'You've become quite a nuisance to me,' he said from behind. 'And so has Aleks.'

  Sean tried to twist round to see him, but his bindings held him fast. 'Where is he? What have you done with him?'

  Bales completed his loop, coming around into Sean's view again. He stopped in front of him, hands still behind his back, a wicked smile on his face. 'He's safe — don't worry. Safe and secure.' His eyes flashed. 'For now. He'll have you to thank when he's not.'

  Despite his thirst, his hunger and his exhaustion, a prickling anger riled Sean's senses into overdrive, chasing away any hint of exhaustion. 'What are you talking about?'

  'You should've listened to your friend James Aspen. Nice man. Knew his place in the world. If you'd listened to him, you wouldn't be in this mess, so you've only got yourself to blame.'

  'What have you done with Aleks? Tell me!'

  Bales' smile dropped, and he approached Sean. 'You had the chance to leave this alone, to walk away and not get hurt. I gave you that chance. I risked everything to let you keep your nose out, and you chose not to. Why not? Everyone else did.'

  Sean didn't say anything, but behind the post he was pulling at the ropes as hard as he could, his anger stronger than the agony.

  'So you've brought this on yourself. Aleks, too. You dragged him into this, Sean, this is your fault.'

  'It's a trap …' Sean whispered. 'You're using me to get to Aleks …'

  Bales grinned. 'You're smart, Sean, yes you are, and that's what got you into this mess in the first place. You know too much, and now you're going to have to pay the price, and so is Aleks. I believe he's on his way here now. At least you did that much right for me and got that nuisance of a man out of hiding.'

  'This is insane,' Sean said. 'You have no right to silence anyone. Not me, not Aleks — not Sally.'

  Bales dropped his grin and his eyes narrowed. 'You have no idea what you're talking about,' he said. 'And I don't think you're in any position to be arguing about it, either. I get what I want whether you like it or not. You had your chance to stay out of my way and you missed it.'

  'I have every idea what you're talking about. I know about UV One, I know about Gardner — I know everything.'

  Sean's right hand was screaming bloody murder, but it was almost free. He did everything he could to stop his eyes tearing up from the pain.

  'You don't know anything!' Bales yelled, stabbing his finger at Sean, spittle flying from his mouth. Sean saw a madness in Bales that, for the first time, scared him to his core. All of sudden he realised how real Bales' threats were. He gave up on trying to pull his wrist free subtly, and yanked hard at the rope. Bales saw what he was doing, and took a step back, reaching into his jacket. Sean's hand tore free, fresh fire burning his skin, and he threw it round in a flash to connect with Bales' jaw. Bales staggered back, the gun he was extracting clattering to the floor. They both looked at it, then at each other, and as Bales dropped to pick it up, Sean took another swing. It landed on Bales' ear, knocking him sideways, but before Sean had a chance to recoil, Bales was on him. Blow after blow landed on Sean's ribs, head and arms, knocking the wind from him, turning his vision fuzzy. He did his best to block, but he couldn't stop the impacts raining down on him. As the world span, he thought to himself how stupid he had been, how Bales was much bigger than he was, and how badly he had failed. He didn't remember falling to the floor, but he was down, and a high-pitched ringing filled his head. Bales, who was swimming from side to side, picked up his gun and pointed it at Sean.

  'I was hoping to wait for Aleks so he could see what you've done, but I suppose he'll have to miss out,' he said.

  Chapter 27

  Sally didn't talk to Mikhail about his brush with death. She tried not to think about it herself either, but the best she could do was push it back into a corner of her mind that only spoke in whispers. While she was asleep, however, she could not control her mind, and flashes of Mikhail's face — eyes rolled back, lips contorted in agony, blood rushing from his ears and nose — haunted her dreams. It would happen to him again, she knew it, she could feel it, and it would be worse next time. He had aged considerably since they'd first met, but that didn’t stop her enjoying the company of Mikhail as he was: a wonderful and enchanting human being.

  'No I don't,' she chuckled, pushing him away.

  'You do,' he said, laughing himself.

  'I don't have a freckly nose …'

  'You do!'

  Sally ripped a small mirror from its Velcro home and had a look. Sure enough, she had a smattering of freckles across her otherwise pale nose.

  Mikhail raised an eyebrow and grinned. 'See?'

  Sally made a grumbling noise and returned the mirror to its pad. She must have got those working outside under the hot Californian sun a few months back. She'd been testing a deep space comms array she'd developed; the lab she was allocated was too small. That seemed a lifetime ago, and not usually having the time for vanity, she hadn't even noticed the appearance of the freckles. She stuck her tongue out at Mikhail and laughed, despite trying to keep a straight face. He winked back in a, I told you so, kind of way.

  'You have freckles too,' Sally said. 'Dark ones.'

  'I know I do.'

  'I like them.'

  'And I like yours. They suit you.'

  'They don't,' Sally said, covering her nose. 'They look silly. I'm too pale.'
<
br />   Mikhail took her wrist in a light grip and pulled her hand from her nose. She let him, the micro gravity pulling them closer together.

  'They look beautiful,' he whispered.

  His voice washed through Sally, a torrent of healing emotional warmth that cleansed her soul, filtering out all the hurt and pain she'd stored up over the years with its purity. For such a long time she'd avoided proper human contact, burying herself deep in her work, and it made her sad, regretful of the time she'd lost out in feeling such an unadulterated joy as the one she felt with Mikhail. In a strange way it also made her think of her parents, and for the first time in a long while, she missed them. She longed to be with Mikhail forever, to go to a place beyond the Earth that had left her cold and empty, to find a new level of emotional peace she was sure he knew of. If he left her behind, she would have to face the worst kind of pain all over again.

  'I want you to take me with you,' she said, looking deep into his dark eyes.

  He looked down, searching. 'I can't.'

  Sally moved her head to lock their eyes together again, pulling his gaze back to her. 'But why? Why can't we both go there and be happy together? There's nothing for us here.'

  'I wish I could, I really do. But the time isn't right. Maybe it will be one day, but there's something you have to do first.'

  The laughter was gone. Mikhail's words were sombre. Sally took his hands and held them to her chest.

  'What is it? What do I have to do to be with you? I'll do anything it takes — anything.'

  Sally knew as the words came out of her mouth that she meant it. Her mind was constantly evolving, hunting for knowledge, and she'd learned to keep her eyes forward and focussed on the next stepping-stone, because her past had no home for her. And now, looking into Mikhail's eyes, into the reflection of her future, she could not bear the thought of returning to a life she'd outgrown. But as much as she knew what she wanted, she also knew what Mikhail was going to tell her.

  'When the time is right, you'll know,' he said.

  'Tell me now!' Sally shouted, gripping Mikhail's hands harder. She was shocked to hear the panic in her own voice, and realised that her chest was light with breathlessness. Mikhail pulled away, massaging the backs of his hands. Deep nail marks were visible in his skin, and Sally gasped when she saw them.

  'Oh my god, I'm sorry,' she said, reaching out to help him, but he retracted from her.

  'It's okay,' he said. 'I understand your frustration. But I'm not what you need; I can't be. You need another. A more perfect being, someone you can love from here to eternity.'

  What Sally was hearing numbed her mind, and everything felt distant. 'I want that to be you,' she whispered.

  Mikhail shook his head. 'It can't be. I'm just a very small part in a very big world. You are a big part. He is a big part. Together you will change the world.'

  Sally had nothing left to say. She could see that Mikhail was pushing her away, not just physically, but emotionally, detaching himself from her and leaving her alone once again. Where her voice fell silent, her tears cried out, and they flowed from her and clouded her vision. Through the blurry haze, Mikhail had just two more words for her: 'I'm sorry.'

  With that, he bucked, clutching his head and screamed an ear-splitting scream that cut through Sally like a blade. Wiping her eyes, she pushed forwards to help him, but he thrashed so violently that he threw her back against the wall, knocking her head against something hard. Dazed, she swam on the boundary of consciousness, her fading sight catching the dying convulsions of the man she loved.

  * * *

  'Soyuz TMA Eleven M, TsUP. First stage of docking underway, please confirm range of three zero zero zero metres,' came the voice of CAPCOM over the radio.

  'Three zero zero zero metres confirmed, TsUP, first stage of docking underway,' Major Sam Taylor responded.

  'Switching to docking camera,' Captain Tim Wilson — sat to Taylor's right — added. Using a small, metal rod, he stretched from his harnessed position to prod the relevant button.

  'Copy, Soyuz. Approach looks good.'

  * * *

  "I'll get the car,' Banin said, setting off at a sprint.

  'No! Wait!' Aleks yelled after him. 'You'll never fit it through that gap!'

  Banin slowed to a stop, looking back at the fence. 'I was going to ram it,' he said, panting.

  'Those posts look concreted in pretty deep.'

  'Are you sure?'

  'Positive.'

  Aleks didn't understand how Banin couldn't see it, but to him it was obvious that the posts would have made mincemeat of Banin's old relic, even with Banin and his intense driving style at the wheel.

  'Shit,' Banin groaned, wandering back, chest still rising and falling. 'Then we've got some running to do.'

  Each stride over the field took Aleks another step closer to what felt like a certain heart attack, his aging organs pushing and pulling and squeezing inside him as he did his best to keep up his momentum. As he climbed the first hill of two between them and the barn, occasionally looking down to check they were still following the tyre tracks, he could do nothing but fight the urge to stop, to catch his breath, to lay down on the floor, go to sleep and never wake again.

  At the top of the hill, they both slowed, Banin's fitness as malnourished as Aleks' own. Hands on hips, cold air scorching his throat, Aleks looked down over the next hill at the barn; it seemed closer, but not as much as he'd hoped. From this vantage point, however, he could see further into the crack where the barn was nestled, revealing the source of the tracks and the engine noise: a quad bike. Breathless, he pointed, and Banin nodded.

  'I see it,' he wheezed.

  For a moment, the sight spurred Aleks on, and he waved Banin to follow, who did so with obvious reluctance. The regret was immediate: his chest tightened and his lungs burned as he dragged air into them in long, ragged gasps, but he pushed on — they both did. Through sweat and tears he stomped down the other side of the hill and began the ascent of the next, digging his heels into the muddy-green scrub underfoot.

  This time they didn't stop until they reached the low fence that surrounded the barn. After pushing so hard, stopping was a whole new agony. As Aleks had run, the cool breeze had kept him from cooking in his own heat, but now, stationary, his body temperature rose, his sticky shirt preventing it from escaping. He retched, blood rushing to his dizzy head, and he grasped the fence for balance so he could recompose himself.

  'You okay?' Banin said in a strained voice that inferred his own hellish pain.

  Aleks nodded. 'I'll be fine, just give me a minute.'

  'Just a minute?' Banin said, laughing hoarsely. 'I think I need ten.'

  As Aleks cooled off, he surveyed the barn. It faced away from them, and around it were a couple of smaller sheds. The quad bike was parked to one side of the barn, engine off.

  'I reckon he's in there,' Aleks said, pointing at the barn. 'The door's probably on the other side.'

  'Yeah, I think so.' Banin pulled out his phone, dialled and held it to his ear. 'Hi, can you send a patrol car up to the old factory near Pavlovskoye. Ok, thanks.'

  He hung up and put the phone back in his pocket. 'Just in case.'

  'So, what do we do now?'

  By way of response Banin vaulted the low fence, landing heavily on the other side.

  'We go in,' he said, dusting off his hands. He reached into his jacket and drew his pistol. 'While we've still got the element of surprise on our side.'

  * * *

  'Soyuz TMA Eleven M, TsUP. Two thousand, two zero zero zero metres. Please confirm.'

  'Two zero zero zero metres confirmed,' Taylor replied.

  'Soyuz, please disengage automatic docking sequence and engage manual override for control and visual.'

  'Copy, TsUP.' Taylor did as he was asked, prodding the control with his rod to set Soyuz up for a manual dock, craning his neck to see through the optical view screen from the outboard periscope. 'I've been looking forward to this,' he sa
id, grinning to himself beneath his helmet. 'I didn't think I'd ever get a chance to actually pilot something in space now everything's gone automated.'

  'As long as you don't pile us into the side of the station like you did on the simulator,' Wilson said, chuckling.

  'Hey, that was one time. I hadn't been on that simulator since I was on the TMA Eight M back up crew, so I'll thank you for bringing it up.'

  'Okay, okay, jeez … I was only joking, no need to get so uptight.'

  Taylor tutted, turning his attention to the view of the station growing larger on the screen. 'It's a shame it's the last we're ever going to see of this place,' he said.

  'You got that right.'

  They reflected in silence for a moment, then Taylor said, 'TsUP, Soyuz. One zero zero zero metres, entering stage two docking procedure, manual.'

  'Soyuz, copy, one zero zero zero.'

  'I mean, why are we even doing this? It doesn’t make sense,' Wilson said.

  'Shut up — you know all this stuff's recorded.'

  'I'm just saying.'

  'Well, don't.'

  Wilson looked like he'd dropped the thought, and then he didn't. 'I just don't see what the point is. Seems like a waste to me. Surely there's another way?'

  'Yeah, well, what do we know. I'm just glad we got a final chance to visit the station. You should be grateful for that.'

  'I suppose,' Wilson said, sighing.

  'Exactly. TsUP, Soyuz. Five zero zero metres and closing. Entering stage three docking procedure.'

  'Copy, Soyuz.'

  * * *

  It wasn't the first time Sean had felt close to death's door, but this was by far the closest. All he could do was ask himself whether it was worth it, and a small voice from deep down inside told him that yes, it was. He'd stood by his morals, and although he'd lost against Bales, it was a victory for himself. He shut his eyes to slow the spinning of the room, and with the darkness came a peace, pure and cleansing.

  'It'll be over soon,' Bales said from a million miles away. He seemed to say it over and over again, and there were hands clapping him, applauding his words, cheering him on. But was it hands making that clapping sound? Or was it something else? The clapping grew louder, but it couldn't have been for Bales, because he heard him turn on his heel to face the sound. That's when Sean realised that it wasn't clapping at all. It was the sound of running. He opened his eyes.