Absolute Zero

by Phillip Tomasso

  Sensors would have picked them up.

  No. There were no signs of life anywhere in the immediate vicinity.

  Commander Meyers spoke, asking the computer for a layout of the colony. In three dimensions, the blueprints of the colony displayed inside her faceshield. The three-dimensional image dominated the entire shield. “Show me the closest entrance?”

  The blueprints became an aerial overview. A flashing X marked where they stood. The image shifted and spun. A dotted line gave the commander the quickest route from point A to point B.

  The good thing, if bright sides existed, was that she no longer needed to prod the surface. The colony had been constructed on what was best defined as one of the limited Neptune landmasses. The poisonous ocean still surrounded them, and it did not mean they were any safer from falling into a crevice, or stream, but for the most part, the rest of the journey should be straightforward.

  Meyers said, “Stay close. We’ll be there before you know it.”

  “I’m low on air,” Weber said.

  “Same,” Danielle added.

  “We should all have about an hour left,” Meyers said. “We’re going to be just fine. All we have to do is keep moving. All right? Okay, then. Let’s go.”

  _____

  Captain Stanton and Lieutenant Ruiz hooked arm in arm. They supported one another. Each step they took was tougher than the last. Once the sun set, the temperatures dropped and the wind kicked up again. Loose gems from the ground and on the snowdrifts whipped through the air in a frenzy.

  “I’m running low on air, Adam.”

  He did not want her panicking. His insides felt twisted enough for the both of them. Visibility was once again down to nil. Except for digital data displayed inside his helmet, he could not see more than a few feet in front of them.

  It would not be so bad if those … things … were not out there, and were not following them.

  Worse, his air was equally low.

  “We’ve got more than enough to get where we’re going.” He decided even he could detect the tremble in his tone of voice. If he heard it, Ruiz would have noticed it, as well. “Plenty,” he added. Yes. That sounded far more authoritative and convincing, he convinced himself.

  “There,” she said, suddenly.

  Stanton saw it. Upper right of the faceshield.

  The colony. They were back on course. “What’s that? Those blips on the side east side of the building?”

  Stanton said, “Enhance.”

  A three-dimensional blueprint of the colony filled the glass of his faceshield, which was fine since he could not see where he was going, anyway. “Detect,” he said.

  The blips showed up on the left side of his faceshield. Three thumbnail-size photos. Rank and names under them.

  “It’s the commander,” Ruiz shouted.

  “And Weber and Rivers!” Adam could not contain his excitement any better than his lieutenant could. A wave of emotions ran through him. The captain had been reluctant to admit— to even think—the two of them had been the only ones to survive. But he’d thought it. He didn’t want to tell Ruiz he believed the two of them were stranded. Alone. Or that he never believed they’d reach the colony in time.

  The tables turned.

  Optimism filled him.

  “They made it!” Ruiz said. The similar revelation apparent in her own tone of voice. Stanton knew they each had the same thoughts, but decided to keep dismal opinions locked away from the other. Relief flooded from Ruiz’s sigh: “They made it.”

  “But why are they outside?” Stanton said, immediately regretting he had spoken the question aloud.

  “What? What was that?” Ruiz asked.

  There was no taking back his words and maybe Ruiz didn’t need or didn’t deserve the unsolicited overprotection he provided. “The blips. Still see them? They are on the outside of the structure.”

  It didn’t take Ruiz long to see the issue. “Can’t they get inside?”

  The question posed a plethora of concerns. He fought those dark thoughts back, back, out of the forefront. “The colonists will let them in.”

  “They’re the reason we’re here. It was their distress signal that called us in the first place. What if they can’t get to a hatch? What if they’re unable to let the commander in?” Ruiz stopped walking, clearly contemplating the situation.

  Stanton tugged on her arm. “The commander will have a way in. A hatch code.”

  “Do you think?”

  “Think? No. I know,” he said. He lied. “But that’s why we’ve got to hurry.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t have a code.” Stanton gave her the truth. “Communicators long distance aren’t working. They don’t know how close we are. When they get inside the colony, we want to be right there. Walking in with them.” Instead of locked on the outside, beating on doors no one on the inside would ever hear.

  Angela Ruiz began walking with vigor. Stanton worked at catching up. Purpose restored. Drive and determination inspired.

  “Adam,” she said, “Adam—if we can see them on display, doesn’t that mean the commander can see us, too?”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Captain Rivers shouted, “Commander!”

  They had finally reached the colony. The trek had been long, dangerous, and deadly. The hours spent outside had taken a toll on them. The structure in front of them was a haven, truly a sanctuary.

  They stood huddled around the hatch on the east side of the buildings. Commander Meyers faced the locked doorway, with Lieutenant Weber on her left, and Rivers on her right.

  Meyers nodded toward Rivers. “I see them, Captain.”

  The commander turned around, facing the blue vastness beyond the colony.

  Two dots blinked. They were located on the south-west portion of the map. Commander Meyers didn’t want to get too excited. Not until she had some confirmation. In desperate times, it was sometimes too easy to grasp onto hope. While there was nothing wrong with reaching, the commander just wanted to be sure there was a handhold waiting. It wasn’t so much for her own sanity, as much as for Rivers’ and Weber’s.

  They deserved hope with a concrete foundation, or as firm as can be expected.

  “Detect,” Commander Meyers said.

  The computer system responded. The images, ranks, and names appeared on the left of the faceshield.

  “Captain Stanton. This is Commander Meyers. Do you copy, over?”

  Silence answered.

  Meyers wanted to make contact before going inside. She worried the short-range radios might not transmit through the walls of the colony.

  Facing the lockbox and with a gloved hand, the commander lifted the lid protecting the keys and punched in the unlock sequence. The hatch rose.

  “You guys, inside. I’ll wait for the others.” Meyers ushered them in. “When this door closes, you will be inside a recompression chamber. Strip out of the space suit. Activate the detox. You’ll get sprayed down. Remove any foreign elements. After a final scan, if all is well, you’ll be able to enter the colony. Thing is, we won’t be able to enter the chamber—come in from out here—until the two of you pass through. So don’t dawdle. Understood?”

  “Aye, Commander,” they said in unison.

  “Once inside the colony, you stay put. Wait for us. No exploring on your own. Understood?”

  “Aye.”

  “Get inside,” Meyers said. She could not take her eyes off her own air gauge. Her helmet vibrated more frequently, letting her know she was dangerously close to suffocating.

  Rivers and Weber did not wait. As soon as they passed under the hatch and into the recompression chamber, the door swooshed closed.

  Meyers put her back to the door. The lights on her helmet barely penetrated five feet in front of her; the darkness and the storm were beyond crippling. She concentrated on the blips representing the others from her team.

  They would be with her shortly.

  “Captain Stanton. This is
Commander Meyers. Do you copy, over?”

  Silence. It was disheartening. They were alive, however. Alive and making their way closer and closer every second. She wondered if they were aware of her?

  “Commander? Commander? This is Captain Stanton. I copy. How do you read my communicator?”

  “Loud and clear, Captain! Loud and clear!” The two were in close enough range the communicators worked. While not thrilled about the limited ability of their technology on this planet, she was relieved and thankful just the same.

  “Commander? Lieutenant Ruiz and I are nearly to the hatch. We are running very low on air. It’s going to be close.”

  “Captain, I’m waiting right here. Right by the hatch. I’m not going anywhere without either of you.” The commander was no longer as concerned with her own air. She was, for most intents and purposes, safe. The hatch was inches from her. She could hold her breath if the supply ran out, enter the sequence code on the lockbox, and be inside the chamber in seconds.

  No. Now she let her attention center around Captain Stanton and Lieutenant Ruiz. They had to make it.

  Her helmet vibrated. The gauge flashed with a red light inside her faceshield. She would hold her breath until they made it to the hatch. It was decided.

  She was not going through the hatch until the others joined her.

  They would enter together.

  “Commander,” Stanton said, “we’re very low on air.”

  “Don’t stop. Don’t slow down. Don’t talk. Conserve oxygen. I’m coming your way.” Meyers started toward them. With her arms out in front, waving blindly, the commander picked up the pace.

  The computer set a direct route for her. She followed it and hoped the captain was using the same program, and headed directly for her. The challenge was the distance between them. Time minus air equaled jeopardy.

  She kept her breathing even, despite moving as fast as her weighted boots allowed.

  The blips grew closer.

  Progress on both ends made.

  Meyers pushed forward, with a screaming wind at her back. The force continually threatened knocking her face first into the blue snow. Every bone in her body burned. Her legs ached. Time in space damaged muscles. Use of treadmills and stationary bikes maintained strength and bone mass. Exercise was not suggested; it was required for in-space living.

  Perhaps she had taken shortcuts. For that, the commander knew she was paying the price. Never again. From this day forward, she would complete every second of the required cardiovascular workouts.

  The two blips were so close. The commander looked past the map and out into the storm.

  Wind sent snow and gems in a whirl pattern. It appeared as if she were walking directly toward a Black Hole, a vortex. She did not let the fear of the unknown stop her. Apprehension and fear never controlled her actions. She was prone to do the opposite of what others did when faced with uncertainty. Her training, her personality, told her to walk toward danger when natural instinct would be to turn and run.

  And then she saw it. Four LED lights. They were in a line. She recognized the formation immediately. Two belonged to Stanton and two to Ruiz. They were the lights perched on the sides of their helmets.

  The lights bounced with the steps her people took.

  She quickened her pace. Any faster and she would be running. The excitement inside her convinced her she could indeed run if need be.

  Then two of the lights dropped, vanished.

  She ran.

  “Commander,” Lieutenant Ruiz yelled. “The captain’s out of air!”

  Meyers reached them. Her captain was face down in the snow. She knelt next to him, and with Ruiz’s help, rolled him onto his back.

  Thankfully, the dark sky eliminated a lot of the brilliant reflection in the faceshields, and Meyers was able to see that Stanton was awake. Eyes and mouth open. “We’ve got to get him to the hatch. Now! I’ll take his arms. Ruiz, grab his legs.”

  Meyers and Ruiz lifted Stanton. The man was dead weight. Ruiz led them. She faced away from Stanton, one of his feet at each of her hips. She walked forward, while the commander carried the brunt of the load. She cradled Stanton under the arms but kept in time with Ruiz’s pace.

  At one point, when the hatch was just ahead, visible in the soft glow of the security light over the doorway, Meyers stumbled.

  Stanton went down. Thankfully, she had dropped the captain snow, and not rocks, or something less … fluffy.

  Ruiz halted, turned her head, and seeing what had happened set down Stanton’s legs. “Commander—”

  “I’ve got this. We pick him up on three.”

  They counted. Lifted.

  Hurrying toward the hatch, the commander’s helmet alarmed.

  There was no more air.

  Meyers sucked at nothing. There had been plenty of warnings all along, but now there was not even time to take in a final breath.

  Her lungs immediately began burning.

  They reached the hatch. She hurried, dropping Stanton a second time as she lumbered past him, past Ruiz.

  She struggled lifting the lid on the lockbox. Her fingers, clumsily, entered the sequence code, only nothing happened. Meyers tried a second time.

  When the door did not open, she pounded a fist against the hatch. Her mind raced. She hoped Rivers or Weber saw them on a security camera, and that they would find some way to open the hatch for them.

  There was no time for hoping. If the three of them were going to survive, it was up to her. She glanced behind her. Ruiz stood statue-still, holding her captain by the ankles.

  Meyers closed her eyes taking a moment she didn’t have, and couldn’t afford to take, and calmed her thoughts, her nerves, herself, and then, when she opened her eyes again, she tried the sequence a third time.

  There was a second of doubt, of dread and desperation, before the hatch finally opened, and stepping into the chamber, the commander collapsed.

  PART II

  ___

  The Search

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Aboard the Eclipse

  Chief Engineer Officer Mandy Kadera radioed the bridge.

  “Bridge on,” Acting Commander Mark Windsor replied.

  Kadera, draped over her pad, pushed the image displayed with fingertips this way and that. “Commander,” she said, addressing the First Officer as such out of respect and admiration. “Thanks to Officer Gaines, I’ve been able to re-establish a link with the shuttle.”

  “You’ve reached them? Are they okay?” Windsor kept an even tone. His words came out smooth and calm sounding. Kadera knew there was hidden concern, perhaps panic in them. It might not get picked up by the average ear, or maybe it was just because she knew Windsor better than most.

  “No, sir. I have not been able to reach any of the crew. However, with the link re-established—”

  “I believe that is because the storm has passed. The clouds are no longer blocking the frequencies. Not sure how long the lull will last. It’s nighttime. Have to assume more storms could pop up at any time.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt you, Chief. Please, continue.”

  Chief. She loved her work. Good grades never came easy. She spent long hours and sleepless weekends studying. It paid off. Graduated top of her class. Proudest moment in her parents’ lives, they had told her. Countless times. Maybe a little pride caused the puff in her own chest, as well. It did not matter. She didn’t care. It was well deserved, she always thought. A bit of arrogance was really just a display of confidence, the way she saw it. Anyway, the point being, when Mark called her chief, he made the title feel sexy. She thought he did it on purpose. It was her title. And he was addressing her properly. It was just the way he said. There was a certain pronunciation when he called her chief that made her blush. She was blushing now. The heat in her face had her thankful the two were communicating over the radio and not via monitors.

  “Chief Kadera?”

  Except
then. The blush vanished. She let her thoughts get away from her, got the better of her, and now she was embarrassed. She might not be blushing any longer, but she was most certainly flushed. “Ah, yes, Commander,” she said. “I’ve been able to zero in on the shuttle. It still has systems online. I’ve run a remote diagnostics on the transporter, sir.”

  “And what did you find?”

  “The ship went down due to engine failure.”

  “But, then why—”

  “Remember when, on Earth, they used to travel by airplanes?”

  “Of course. The Wright Brothers. History one-oh-one.”

  “Exactly. Well. There is file footage of a most famous crash. It was back in two-thousand-nine. A pilot landed his jet in the Hudson River. Apparently, a flock of geese was sucked into the engine. His amazing piloting skills saved the souls of the passengers on board. Killed a hell of a lot of geese, but I guess that’s not what’s important here,” Kadera said.

  “Are you saying that there are geese on Neptune … that geese brought our shuttle down?”

  “No. Not at all, Commander.” Now he just sounded idiotic. How could he suggest that that was what she was suggesting? She was just getting geared up to explain the situation. All the work she had done analyzing data, what point was there to just getting to the point without some explanation, without some background? It took the fun out of everything, diminished the importance of the investigative work conducted.

  “Chief Kadera, the point. Please.”

  Did he sound impatient? She felt like maybe he did. She heard the slight change in his tone of voice. She was definitely detecting some irritation. “There are no geese on Neptune, Commander. Not as far as I know. I’m pretty sure the planet is lifeless—”

  “Kadera!”

  Yes. Definite irritation. She actually took a step back from her worktable, from her pad. It was almost as if Windsor were in front of her, face-to-face, for the scolding. “Diamonds,” she said, as if that were that, and she had given the acting commander what he wanted. A direct answer.