"First, we need to decompress the ship," he said to himself. "On the left is a panel locked down by four screws. Unscrew them and open the panel."
The screws were already unscrewed of course, and lifting the panel open, he was presented with the next, clear and hinged from the top. Underneath was the bright red t-shaped plunger. Above the panel was the sign that said, Warning! Manual decompression override. Use only in an emergency.
"Lift the cover," Ben said, "and pull out the red plunger." As he did so, he said, "Turn the plunger counter-clockwise until it stops. An alarm will sound."
When Ben turned the plunger, the alarm did indeed sound. He was used to it.
"Now push the plunger back down again."
The plunger was harder to push in than it was to push out, as though it were connected to something mechanical. As he pushed, the green light turned red, and his suit began to inflate and the alarm became quieter. Once the plunger had reached its stop, he could no longer hear the alarm, and his suit was taught like a balloon.
He reached for his helmet.
Chapter 23
Ben's fingers numbly felt the fold of material that covered the helmet's seal. Hands quivering, he rolled it back. He felt strangely calm, perhaps a side effect of the hunger and tiredness, perhaps an acceptance of what was about to happen to him. A warmth crept through him, almost like relief. He was nearly there. It felt easy. It felt like the right thing to do.
There were three catches that held the helmet affixed. He released the first. A gentle hiss, almost imperceptible, started below his chin. The cold followed it, quickly saturating his body. The second catch came soon after, and the hiss grew. He could see the suit starting to deflate. He could feel the embrace of drowsiness turning his vision to tunnels.
With his fingers on the third catch, he closed his eyes. He wanted to say something, felt that he should, but no words came. Perhaps he'd see his parents again soon. He took a breath and braced himself.
"Ben, stop."
The voice was all around him, in him.
"There's another way."
In front of him, his father's face appeared, and then his mother's. They looked cold, emotionless.
"Mum … Dad …" Ben whispered.
His parents' emotionless faces broke into smiles, filling Ben with light and warmth once again. He bathed in it.
"Ben," his dad said. "Reseal your helmet."
"But … I want to be with you …"
"Please," his father implored.
Ben nodded, and sealed the clips one by one.
"You're going to make it," his father said, and his mother nodded.
Then they faded away.
"You're going to make it," Tom told him.
Ben blinked. "What?"
"I said you're going to make it."
Ben's brain felt slow and mushy. "My mum, my dad …" he whispered. "I saw them …"
"You gave me quite a fright there," Tom said. "When I saw what you were doing I booted up immediately, but it takes a few minutes. I thought I was going to be too late."
All at once, Ben broke down into great convulsing sobs. He crumpled to the floor, hugging his knees.
"I don't want to die," he whispered through his tears. "I don't want to die …"
"Ben, it's okay," Tom said. "I've been doing some thinking. Sorry it's taken so long—my computing power is stretched pretty thin. But … there's another way …"
Ben sniffed, looking up from his knees. "Another way? Back to Earth?"
"Yes."
A rush of adrenaline kick-started Ben's brain. Suddenly, he was awake and alert. "How?"
"We don't have much time. The window is closing. Go to the computer."
Ben hurried to the pilot's seat and turned on the computer.
"Find the menu marked System."
Navigating the screen, Ben found the menu.
"Now, go to option seventeen, then option four, then option fifty-three."
Ben followed the instructions to the letter. He didn’t understand the terminology associated with those menu items.
"Now select Manual Seal, then confirm okay."
"Done."
"I need you to go outside. Now."
Ben nodded, leaped out of the chair and darted back to the hatch, where he punched through the routine to get it open. The universe swelled in front of him.
"Go to the container."
"Okay …"
Ben was about to latch his safety line when Tom said, "No. No safety line."
"Are … are you sure?"
"I'm sure. Hurry."
Carefully, Ben shuffled along the tug to the container.
"Faster," Tom told him.
Heart pumping so hard it hurt, Ben moved quickly from handle to handle, blood pressure spiking with every misjudged grip and slip of his hands.
"Keep moving," Tom said. He was showing no sympathy.
Ben had barely arrived at the rear of tug when Tom was directing him again.
"Unlatch the container."
"I just need to catch my breath—"
"There's no time."
Ben disconnected the net holding the container where it was still hooked on to the tug, forearms burning from the continued effort.
"Now, drag the container underneath the tug to the nose."
Ben didn't have a moment even for confusion.
"Ben, hurry."
With one hand holding the netting and one hand pulling himself along, Ben dived from handhold to handhold, floating freely between each one. His adrenal gland was now in overdrive and he felt close to passing out, but anytime he even slowed, he was berated by Tom.
"What now?" he said when he'd reached the nose of the tug.
"Look out ahead. See line of stars that make a W?"
Ben squinted. "I see them."
"Listen very carefully. I want you to push the container towards the bottom of the right-hand V of that W. I'll tell you when exactly. Then, hang on to the container and climb in, shutting the hatch behind you."
None of this made any sense to Ben.
"Do it, now."
Despite his fear, Ben knew he could trust Tom. He aimed the container and gave it a push.
"Good, that's it. Now hang on."
Ben clung on to the netting and allowed himself to be pulled free of the tug. He had to fight himself not to scrabble back again, tensing hard to force himself still. Over his shoulder, he saw the tug slipping away. He'd never felt so vulnerable in all his life.
"Okay, now climb into the container."
Ben had to peel his hands away from the netting to pull himself up it. He wanted it all to be over. His body struggled to comply. But, one small step at a time, he dragged himself to the container. Once he was in, he pulled the hatch shut, and felt a lot better in the darkness.
"What's going on?" he said at last.
"The manual seal has been opened. This will overheat the core. The tug will detonate. You will be propelled towards Earth."
"But—but what about you?"
"I made a promise to look after you, Ben. I have to keep that promise."
"But I don't want to you to go, you're my friend …" Ben said. "Please …!"
"I have to. I have to save you."
"No! Why?"
"Because you're my friend, too."
"There must be another way! Think of another way!"
"It took me nearly a week to think of this. It's the best I've got."
"No! I don't allow you to do it! Override! Cancel! Stop!"
Ben's ears rung with his shouting as he was faced with a wall of silence.
"Tom?" he said quietly.
Nothing. Then, "What am I?"
"What?"
Tom said it again. "What am I?"
"Are you—?" Ben asked.
"Yep."
Tom was starting a game of Twenty Questions. Ben smiled, but it was quickly strangled by overwhelming grief.
"Uhhm, are—are you an animal?"
"No."
>
"A mineral?"
"Yes."
Ben could feel his eyes filling with tears. "Are you a compound?"
"No."
"An element?"
"Yes."
Speaking was a struggle against his tightening throat "Are you inert?"
"No."
"Radioactive?"
"Yes."
"Are you the most radioactive element?"
"Yes ..."
Ben had an answer, but he didn't want to say it. If he said it, it might all be over. "Are you—are you—uranium?"
A pause.
"That's corre—"
The signal was cut off. Before Ben had a chance to say anything, an almighty impact threw him back against the container.
Chapter 24
As the ground rushed up to meet him, Ben Forrest dared himself to dip ever closer, wind ripping at his clothes. At the last moment, blades of grass whipping at his belly, he pulled up, soaring high into the cotton candy puffs of cloud floating above. They exploded into dust as he pierced through them, tickling him and making him laugh. He dipped down again, rolling and twirling, arms outstretched, the thundering wind pounding at his eardrums. Then, as he neared the ground for a second time, he watched as it opened up and swallowed him, laughing shrilly as he disappeared into nothingness.
But the darkness continued. He was freefalling. The laughter died as an echo, fear closing in. With no wind, he was no longer sure if he was falling or not.
He tried to speak, but his words were small and formless. He tried to move, but his limbs resisted against an invisible viscosity. A weight pressed against his chest, making him breathless. The blackness seemed even blacker.
Ahead, a chink of light flickered through a crack. Its beam darted back and forth, searching. Another joined it, and another. They all probed the blackness, until one by one, they settled on Ben.
Ben felt himself being drawn towards the lights, which had combined into one powerful aurora that made his eyes sting. His fear melted away with the warmth of the light, and he let himself be absorbed by it.
He was lying down. Above was a ceiling drawn of crossed lines. He turned his head, saw a machine with lights and screens and numbers. When he tried to move his arms, the tubes that came from the machines also moved. Looking down, he saw those tubes entering his arms.
His heart raced, but he didn't have the energy to move. Laying back, he stared at the crossed lines. He stared, and he stared, and he stared.
* * *
A noise caught his attention. He lifted his head to see a man entering the room. He was older, dressed in white. Ben tried to sit up, but the man held up his hand.
"Try not to exert yourself," he said. "You need to recover."
"I'm hungry," Ben said.
The man smiled. "That's good. We'll have something for you soon. What would you like?"
Ben thought about it. "Eggs. And bacon."
The man looked at his watch, went to say something, then stopped himself. "Of course. First, let's give you a bit of a checkup. You gave us quite the fright you know."
Ben let the man feel his throat and listen to his chest and look into his eyes while he thought about what the man had said. The lights, he remembered the lights. He'd been found. They'd taken him aboard their ship, brought him back here.
"Are we on Earth?" Ben asked.
"Yes, we are," the man said. He made a note on a pad. "Your vitals are looking good. You're recovering and acclimatising well."
"What's going to happen to me?"
The man stopped taking notes. He clearly didn't know what to say. Putting the pad down, he ran his fingers through his hair. "As you somehow managed to make it halfway across the solar system, I'm going to take a guess and say you're a pretty tough kid."
Ben nodded.
"It's not going to be easy for you, Ben. People are going to want to talk to you. A lot of people."
Ben nodded again.
"It may be a long while before you have a life you can call normal."
Ben stared at the crossed lines. "Did you find Tom?"
"Tom? There was another?"
"He's my friend."
"Ben, look at me," the man said, grasping Ben's shoulder.
Ben looked at him.
"Was there someone else with you?"
"The computer," Ben said. "Tom was the computer."
Ben felt the man's grip loosen. The man smiled a smile of relief, which, as he watched Ben, faded into a look of understanding. "I'm afraid the container you were in was all that was found. But you can talk to our computer if you really want to."
"That's okay," Ben said. He turned back to the crossed lines. He could feel the heat growing behind his eyes. He didn't want the man to see him like this.
The man turned to leave. At the doorway, he said, "My name's Doctor Feynman, but you can call me Gill."
"Ben Forrest," Ben said, staring forward.
"It's an honour to meet you, Ben," Gill said. "I'll be back soon with your eggs and bacon."
Once Gill was gone, Ben wiped his eyes. He felt scared. There was no backwards, and he could see no forwards. It was a big, unknown world. Even this room felt enormous to him.
When his food arrived, his stomach rumbled noisily. Gill allowed him to sit up with assistance, and as soon as the plate was put in front of him, Ben dived in.
"Bleargh!" he said, spitting his substantial mouthful back out again. He looked at the congealed mess that had just come out of him. "Sorry," he said, wiping his mouth.
"That's okay," Gill said.
"What is it?"
"It's eggs and bacon, like you asked for."
Ben stared at them. "They don't taste like eggs."
Gill seemed to understand. "Those are real eggs."
After a couple more days, Gill allowed Ben out of bed, but only to the end of the ward and back. He seemed nervous about letting Ben do too much at once, and it was only on the fifth day that he let Ben venture further, mainly because Ben had demanded it.
"Are you sure?" Gill said.
Ben looked at the double doors at the end of the corridor. They stood as a barrier between him and the world outside.
"I'm sure."
Gill negotiated for Ben to at least sit in a chair and be pushed outside, which Ben begrudgingly accepted. His heart fluttered as the doors swung open in front of them, watching over his shoulder as they sealed shut again. The corridor ahead was long and wide. It seemed to take forever to get to the end.
There, Gill, kneeled beside him and spoke in a whisper, so the other doctors and nurses around wouldn't hear.
"You're a brave person, Ben, the bravest I've ever met. But bravery doesn't mean that you don't get to feel anything, okay?"
Ben wasn't quite sure what Gill meant, but nodded anyway. Gill seemed satisfied. The doors ahead opened, and they entered the next room.
It was a big room, an atrium like the observation deck, but bigger and wider and taller. They weren't at the bottom or the top; the level they were on opened up to a great space that spanned however many floors there were. Glass went all the way from the top to the bottom, but it wasn't the glass that made Ben stare, but the view from beyond.
A city of glinting metal and glass, the gaps between threaded by crafts of all shapes and sizes, lay like a blanket below. They were high up, and Ben could see for miles across this unending metropolis. But it was the sky, blue as topaz, flecked with shapeless white clouds, that made his heart stop. It was so vibrant, so big … so beautiful.
"Are you okay, Ben?" Gill leaned forward to ask.
Ben couldn’t move. He didn't know what he was. It felt like he'd entered a dream.
"Let's get you back to your room," Gill said, wheeling Ben around.
"No!" Ben said, grabbing Gill. "I want to stay here."
"Okay," Gill said. "If that's what you want."
"Please," Ben whispered, staring up into the blue.
It seemed that word had gotten out that Ben was physically
fit once again, because visitors began to arrive. Gill tried to stop them—Ben could hear the argument outside his room—but that didn't last. Ben didn't see Gill again after that.
The first visitor was from Helios. They seemed kind enough, but Ben wasn't sure if the kindness was genuine. They asked Ben lots of question about the accident, not so much about his journey back. Ben told them the truth. He couldn't judge the reaction.
More visitors arrived, and they asked him more or less the same questions. Some leaned more heavily on certain points, but there was nothing new to be said. No one would let him speak to Zachery Dance.
Just after two weeks, Ben was moved to an apartment where he was looked after by a lady who didn’t really talk, just wanted to read her tablet. That was fine; Ben didn't have much to say anyway. It was there Ben discovered television, and not just pre-recorded fictional shows or documentaries about animals. There was a thing called the news, an up-to-date roundup of everything that was happening on Earth. There had been an earthquake in Japan. It looked terrifying.
After a month, there was talk about finding Ben a real home. Ben wasn't sure how he felt about that, but then he wasn't sure how he felt about anything. With no one to share with or open up to, it was like his feelings had become plugged up. He didn't even feel hungry that much, even after he'd begun to get used to Earth food. He wished he could see Gill again, but no one seemed to know or really care who that was.
Ben then learned that there was going to be a memorial service for the crew of the station, and that they'd like Ben to attend—if he wanted to, of course. Ben agreed. Ben had seen memorial services in films before, and he asked if he could speak there. They seemed unsure and said they'd look into it. Ben prepared some words anyway.
They made him dress up weird for the service, in a stiff, uncomfortable suit. He'd seen those in films before, too, but he'd never realised how horrible they were to wear. The shoes cut into his ankles, but everyone seemed very busy, so he didn't say anything.
On the way over to the service, he watched out of the window of the car at the city streaming below them. He was flying through the clouds at last, but it didn’t make him feel any better. He asked again about speaking at the service, and they said they were sure they could fit something in. Ben was doubtful.
Suddenly Astronaut Page 17
