by Nate Johnson
“Yes Ma’am,” he said as he got up from his chair.
Amanda shot him a quick, curious look. Obviously, she was as in the dark as he was.
When Nick stepped onto the bridge, his insides tightened up even more. Both Professors were in full suits, their face plates up and out of the way.
What in the hell was going on? he wondered.
“Please put on your suits,” the Doctor said, “We have a small leak from the airlock.”
“What?” Nick demanded. Why hadn’t the alarms gone off? Why hadn’t they been told right away.
“I checked those seals myself two days ago,” he said as he hurriedly climbed into his full space suit. “They were good. One of the few things on this scow that still worked.”
“I don’t know,” Doctor Simpson said. “I received an alert from the AI. It is probably a mistake, but I thought it best if we take precautions.”
“Damn it,” Nick said as he closed his faceplate and started aft.
“Where are you going?” Amanda asked as she reached out to stop him.
“To fix it,” he said. “Stay here, all three of you. Keep the bridge hatch closed until I get back.”
“It is only a small leak,” the Doctor said with a serious frown. “The AI assures me that we have plenty of time.”
Nick snorted, “There is no such thing as a small leak. They have a habit of becoming big leaks real fast, and when you least expect it, everything goes to hell. Now stay here.”
Nick could feel Amanda’s eyes on him as he slammed the hatch shut. His heart raced as he thought about her trapped in this tin can with their life support slowly seeping into space.
Didn’t these people realize, for the outer airlock door to leak that meant the inner door was also leaking? Two leaks at once wasn’t a coincidence.
Grabbing his tool bag from his room, he started for the airlock. Why hadn’t the AI told him? He’d given it specific instruction on the things he was to be informed about. Life support was at the top of the damn list.
Turning down the side corridor, he stopped before the inner airlock door and frowned. Something wasn’t right.
The rubber seal was etched with cracks and crevices. Like it was a hundred-year-old prune, dried out and useless. Two days earlier, it had been soft and supple, just like it was the day the ship left the yards.
A high pitched whistling sound echoed through his headset, the ambient noise outside his suit. Not good, he thought, as his stomach clenched up into a tight ball. Way not good.
Dropping his bag, he bent over and quickly removed a portable welding gun and a six-inch metal square. If he could find the leak, he could throw on a quick patch until he could do a complete replacement of the seal.
As he stood up, he glanced through the viewing port and froze. The outer airlock door was vibrating like a nervous Chung Hu Chipmunk. Nick stood there in shock, unable to believe what he was seeing. Hatches were not supposed to act that way. Especially not airlock hatches.
His insides froze solid, his heart stopped, as he tried to figure out what was going on.
Realizing that a patch wasn’t going to solve his problems he dropped his tools back into his bag. Then, without warning, the outer hatch gave way and exploded into space.
How? What? That was impossible, were the first thoughts that flashed through his mind.
Oh crap! Became his second thought, as the inner door of the airlock began to vibrate just like its brother.
The realization of just how much trouble he was in had barely had time to register when the inner door began to let loose at the hinges.
Nick, being the spacer that he was, instinctively grabbed a hand hold with both hands. His life was now dependent upon keeping his grip on a small metal bar that some yard bird had welded in place a dozen years earlier.
All he could do was pray the guy hadn’t been too drunk when he was doing it.
The sudden rush of escaping air pulled at him, lifting him up off the deck, but still, he held on. The rushing wind ripped at him, slamming him into the bulkhead, pulling at his fingers.
A heavy object slammed into his shoulder then tumbled out into black space behind him.
But still, he held on.
A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind. How was this possible? Amanda’s smile, Captain Jarvis was going to be pissed when he learned, the intoxicating scent of Valerian Star Fruit.
All of it spun by at the speed of a bullet, but still, he held on.
At last, the whipping wind died down as the pressure equalized. Equalized to zero. Taking a deep breath, he scrambled to get his feet settled under him. He had to kick the heavy tool bag to the side. Thankfully, it had caught at the hatch combing and stayed on the ship.
“Nick?” Amanda screamed over his headset.
“What?” he yelled back as he fought to get his heart rate back to some kind of normal.
“Are you alright?” she asked. The hesitant tone of her voice tugged at him. He shouldn’t have yelled at her like that.
“Yeah, I’m fine, but we’ve got a hole the size of a New Kansas wheat field in the side of our ship.”
“Can you fix it?” Doctor Simpson asked.
Nick laughed. A hard belly laugh. Civilians, they had no idea how screwed they were.
Chapter Seven
Nick kicked his tool bag on general principle and headed aft. He’d seen a spare hatch in the aft storage locker, crated up and parked behind a dozen boxes of supplies.
Obviously, no one had ever assumed it would be needed. Why would a research vessel need to replace a hatch?
Shaking his head, he began to grumble to himself. It was a three person job, and the idiots forward were useless to him. He’d just have to do it himself.
“Nick?” Amanda said softly.
“I’ve got to go get a spare hatch,” he said in anticipation of her next question.
“Um ... we may not have the time,” she said with a hint of fear in her voice. “The bridge is leaking.”
“What!” he yelled as he slammed on the brakes and turned to hurry forward. This was impossible. Catastrophic failures occurred. But, not three times in a row. Not this quickly.
“Hang on,” he said, “I’ll be right there.” His heart raced as he tried to figure out what was happening to the ship.
Within seconds he was at the bridge hatch, examining the seal. Just like the others, it looked cracked and crevassed. How was that possible? he wondered as he wiped the gasket with his gloved hand.
A fine sheen of shiny grease came away from the rubber seal. Almost like motor oil. Frowning, he studied the substance as he frantically tried to figure out why it was there and what it was doing to his ship.
Instinctively he brought the sample up to smell, but his faceplate stopped him.
“Idiot,” he muttered to himself.
“Strap in,” he yelled into his suit radio. “Buckle yourselves into the bridge chairs tight, seal your suits. If this door goes it’ll suck you outside so fast you won’t see it coming.”
The hatch gave a quick jiggle, and the vision of the airlock hatches jumped into his mind.
“Hurry. Let me know when you are safe.”
A long few seconds ticked by while his heart hammered in his chest. His mouth went dry, and his hands began to sweat inside his gloves. They weren’t acting fast enough. Didn’t they understand?
“We’re in,” Amanda said. “What are you going to do?”
He sighed with relief. “I’m going to crack the hatch a little, equalize the pressure before it pops off. It’s a lot easier to fix than replace. If I leave it alone, we’ll lose it. You guys should be okay in your suits until I get things fixed.”
The trick was to loosen the handle just enough to let some of the air escape without allowing the door to swing all the way open. If he did it wrong, there was a good chance he’d either be crushed by the swinging door or swooshed down the passageway and out into space.”
“Here goes,” he said to
himself.
“Wait,” Professor Robinson yelled. “This is our air, what next?”
Nick shook his head, he didn’t have time for this. The hatch was vibrating more and more with each passing second.
“I’ll fix the airlock, and we can replenish from the tanks.”
There was a momentary pause on the other end, then he heard the words that sent pure ice shooting into his heart.
“I think the tanks are empty,” Professor Robinson said. “At least that is what the readouts are reporting.”
“Damn,” Nick muttered as he slowly opened the hatch. He had no choice. It was either allow the air out slowly over the next ten seconds or have it fail and let it out quickly all at once. Either way, the bridge was going to be in vacuum within the next minute.
The hatch groaned, then popped just a millimeter. Nick could feel the rushing wind against his suit as he held the handle in place, terrified that if he moved a millimeter, the entire door would slam open.
How could the tanks be empty? That was impossible. His mind frantically raced, searching for alternatives.
Maybe he could bleed off the oxygen from the engine tanks. They were a completely separate system. Surely they were still full.
The hatch continued to vibrate in his hand for several second until at last all of the air from the bridge had escaped.
Once he felt in full control of the hatch, he slammed the handle open and stepped in. All three of the scientist looked at him with big gaping eyes. Like he was their only hope of survival.
The look sent a burning pain to his guts. Why him? Why couldn’t they save themselves? Then he caught Amanda looking at him with narrowed, concerned eyes. Like a Corona fox worried about her kit.
It was enough to make a guy want to move mountains and slay dragons.
Shaking off the growing fear inside of him, he hurried over to the main console and brought up the readings. The Professor was right, zero point zero percent in all of the tanks, including the engine tanks.
His stomach clenched up into a tight ball, they were screwed in so many ways no one could count that high.
“I think we need to abandon ship,” Doctor Simpson said with a casual tone, as if she were discussing tomorrow’s lunch menu.
“What?” Amanda exclaimed as she pulled open her seat belt. “Why? ... Nick can fix this. Can’t you Nick?”
She turned to him, her eyes begging him to fix things.
All he could do was slowly shake his head. He didn’t have a solution. His insides turned over as he watched the slow realization cross her face. He had failed her somehow, it was like a slow, hot knife being shoved into his gut.
As if to emphasize his failure, the lights flickered twice, and the gravity field faltered, sending a gut wrenching sick feeling to his stomach.
“Hurry,” he said as the lights stabilized and his feet settled back onto the deck. “We don’t have long, the Higgs generator is having problems. And don’t ask me why. Nothing around here works like it is supposed to.”
“But the data, our work. We can’t just abandon it all,” Amanda said, obviously still in denial as to how serious their problem was.
“I’ve downloaded all the data to the Pod,” Doctor Simpson said. “I do it at the end of every day. We will just lose today’s feed.”
Nick scoffed, she had time to download the data but didn’t bother to check on the engine’s oil reservoir or the CO2 scrubbers. Civilians!
“Come on,” he said as he gently placed a hand on Amanda’s lower back to get her moving. He needed them safe and in the Pod before the whole ship came apart around them.
She glanced back over her shoulder, giving him one last opportunity to make things right. But, then, finally, she sighed heavily and followed the others out the door.
Nick began after them, then hesitated. Turning, he rushed back onto the bridge and found the emergency beacon. Flipping the switch cover open he toggled the beacon on and waited to see the three red lights show up, letting him know the damn thing was working.
He held his breath until the last red light flashed for a second then became steady. Finally, something worked.
Of course, without the wormhole buoy’s, the signal was limited to this system. But at least they’d know there was a problem if anyone ever showed up.
Glancing around, he wondered if there was anything he should take? The ship’s log? Weapons? Anything? But his mind came up blank.
“Nick, are you coming?” Amanda said over the radio.
Gritting his teeth, he told her he’d be right there and hurried after them.
Turning to the starboard passageway, he found the three of them waiting outside the Pod door.
“Hurry up guys,” he said, as he reached past them to pull the door open.
Doctor Simpson shot him a look that he couldn’t begin to figure out, then stepped into the escape Pod.
Silently, he shook his head. As the ship’s commanding officer, she should have been last in. It seemed that neither tradition nor just plain moral responsibility were a part of her make up.
Nick held the hatch open and helped Professor Robinson and Amanda into the Pod. He started to step in himself when he remembered.
“I’ll be right back,” he said as he ran down the passageway, away from the escape Pod.
“Nick,” Amanda called after him. The concerned tone of her voice made him smile. He could listen to her all day.
There, by the open airlock, his tool bag.
Snatching it up, he slung it over his shoulder and scurried back to the escape Pod.
“I wouldn’t feel right without it,” he said in answer to her bewildered look.
Once he was inside, he slammed the hatch closed and hit the switch. He held his breath as he watched the gauge climb. As the pressure grew, his heart rate slowed. The Pod had its own systems thankfully. It looked like everything was working.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t say the same thing for the Discovery. A shudder traveled the length of the ship, Amanda cried out in fear and Professor Robinson quickly gripped the back of the chair next to him.
At last, the shudder stopped, and Nick turned to examine his new home.
Like almost every escape Pod in the galaxy. It was a round sphere that could accommodate twelve comfortably. Twenty in a pinch.
A metal deck split the sphere in half. Above, living space, below, supplies and systems. Padded seats were arranged around the wall of the sphere.
Like King Arthur’s round table, he thought as he plopped down next to Amanda and strapped himself in. Glancing at the others, he made sure they were tied up tight then looked at Doctor Simpson.
Raising one eyebrow, he asked, “Shall I?”
The Doctor closed her eyes for a moment then nodded yes.
Nick took a deep breath and hit the eject button. Unable to believe he was doing this. No sooner had his fist slammed the button than four explosive bolts fired. Jettisoning the escape Pod into space.
They were free, at least for now.
Nick leaned back, letting his head flop to the head rest. ‘They are still alive, Commander Jones,’ he thought.
But for how long?
“What now?” Amanda asked. Nick noticed that she was asking him and not the good Doctor.
He shrugged his shoulders. “Now we wait. The supply ship should be here in two weeks. It might be a lifeless drone, but it will have life support capabilities.”
“Do we have enough supplies, enough air?” Amanda asked.
“We should,” he answered. “There is normally enough for ten days for twelve people. The four of us should be able to make thirty days. No problem.”
“It won’t be two weeks,” Doctor Simpson said.
“What?” he asked as his stomach began to tumble over and over. He was not going to like this, he just knew it.
“The supply ship will not be coming in two weeks. More like six to eight. I had to order some more sensors. We have used the ones we have and need additional ones.
As you know, those sensors are unique. It takes a while, and we couldn’t wait until the next supply run.”
“Why wasn’t I told?” Nick said as he fought to keep his temper in check. His fist clenched as he stared at Doctor Simpson. “I was supposed to be relieved in two more weeks. Commander Jones told me. I’ve got to meet the Endurance in Montlake.”
This was unbelievable, how dare she do this to him.
“Eight weeks?” Amanda said as her brow narrowed in confusion. “How do we stay in here for eight weeks?”
Doctor Simpson paused for a long moment then slowly shook her head.
“We don’t,” she said as she glanced out the portal to the world below.
Chapter Eight
Amanda couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She couldn’t believe any of the things that had occurred in the last few minutes.
Shaking her head, she tried to process what had happened to them.
She and Nick had been having an interesting discussion then all hell broke loose. Nick almost died, twice, and now they were holed up in this Pod talking about landing amongst the Eundai.
Her father would be furious.
“We can’t,” Amanda said. “We can’t expose our existence to them. We can’t warp their world.”
Doctor Simpson looked back at her for a long moment, then simply shrugged, as if that was all the explanation her student deserved.
Amanda threw her hands up into the air and yelled, “You talk to her,” she demanded of Nick.
The spacer studied the mission leader. His eyes calculating and steady.
“Why’d you do it?” he asked. “You could have taken the Pod and gone down yourself. Why put us at risk?”
Amanda’s head spun to look at Nick. What was he saying?
He ignored her and continued to study Doctor Simpson.
“The engine failure would have been enough if the Endurance hadn’t been so close.” He continued. “But, when that didn’t work, you had to take drastic steps.”
Professor Robinson leaned forward. “What are you saying?” he asked.
“I’m saying, that Doctor Simpson arranged for us to be here. She is the one that told the AI not to inform me of failures. She is the chemist. I found a substance on the seals that caused them to crack and peel, making them useless. She also probably arranged for the fire, I just don’t know how.”
