Maybe I should just get it over with. Lift my visor or do a de-orbit burn.
But he knew he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t finish himself, even though he had no hope. With a sigh, he pulled on the tether and docked himself with the booster suit, gaining the benefit of its power supply.
Six hours. That’s how long it’ll be. I’ll be buggered if I’ll do nothing, though.
Holding that thought, he used his attitude jets to orient himself correctly and ignited the thruster.
I may be going to die, but I’m not going to burn alive.
His booster pack had a real rocket, not just a cold gas thruster. It lacked power, but its gentle thrust would accelerate him for five minutes, enough to keep him aloft for more than six hours.
John settled back to enjoy the ride.
David didn’t have time to find out if they had enough fuel for a controlled de-orbit burn. They had dropped so low that the shuttle started reentry minutes after the Inspiration. He found himself doing an unplanned manual re-entry outside of a simulator for the first time.
“Hang on,” he said. “This may be rough.”
The shuttle bumped as the air thickened and a plasma formed around the nose. It felt different, somehow, and David thought of the unprotected booster brackets, hoping John’s statement that they wouldn’t endanger the shuttle proved to be correct.
He snatched a glance behind him and saw that Vasily had got everyone in a vertical position. He had jammed them in so tight they couldn’t move – they’d be as safe as if they wore safety harnesses.
David maintained a gentle pressure on the controls. He didn’t want to let the shuttle skip back off the atmosphere and get lost in space, or bite so deeply that it burned up.
Gravity returned as the air thickened. The shuttle vibrated as it passed through turbulence and slowed to hypersonic speeds. The outside temperature stopped rising and he took stock of where they were.
“We’re coming in way too high,” he said.
“Problem?” Vasily asked, poking his nose into the cockpit.
“Better than too low.”
Vasily nodded.
“But we have almost no power. I need to get this right.”
Because they had almost drained their batteries during the ascent, they would not have the luxury of powered flight. David needed to glide the shuttle back to Haven and use the remaining dregs of power to bring the shuttle to a last-minute soft landing.
They had already flown over Atlantis at high altitude and headed out over the Great Ocean, so he banked the shuttle, bringing them round in a long curve.
“It looks like Earth,” Vasily said, craning his neck to snatch a glance through the cockpit windows.
“It is,” David said, “and even more now we’ve got forest cover. You and Joyce will like it here.”
A groan came from behind them.
“She’s waking up,” Vasily said. He turned to his wife, next to him at the front of the cabin.
The shuttle had lost more altitude, and David locked the approach to the short landing strip into the flight computer.
“Here we go,” he said.
The shuttle glided like a brick, leading to a steep and fast approach. Haven’s landing strip seemed tiny from the cockpit window.
“Stand by to start turbines,” David said.
“Standing by,” Elizabeth replied.
Silence fell as the landing strip continued to grow in the cockpit window, David concentrating, Elizabeth and Vasily crossing their fingers.
“Start turbines.”
Elizabeth pushed the start button and their electric jets whined into life.
David had one eye on their power reserves, which showed only one percent. He kept the power low and angled the jets forward and down. The shuttle slowed a little, but the landing strip still approached at an alarming rate. This would not be an easy landing.
“Landing gear down,” David said.
“Landing gear down,” Elizabeth echoed.
Three red lights on the console turned green.
David had one hand on the control stick and one on the throttles.
“Brace, brace, brace!” he said. He pushed the throttles forward to the stops and pulled the nose up.
From the ground it was a terrifying sight. They saw the shuttle coming, trailing mist from the tips of its wings. The sonic boom echoed in the hills as it dropped below the sound barrier. On a normal approach it would fly slow and flat to a smooth touchdown, but this time it just kept coming, dropping at an impossibly steep angle.
Everyone held their breath – it seemed certain it would crash.
At the last minute the jet turbines screamed and the nose flared up. The shuttle wobbled as it bled speed and landed with a thump on all three sets of wheels at once. It rolled forward to a stop, smoke streaming from its tires.
The engines spooled down, exhausted of power, and silence fell.
They had survived.
Inside the cockpit, David and Elizabeth saw misery reflected in each other’s eyes. They should have been in the highest of spirits, having just pulled off one of the most daring rescue missions in the history of space travel, saving not four but ten people.
All of this seemed empty in the light of the terrible cost of their success.
They’d lost John, and he left a void in their lives that could never be filled.
David turned to look at Vasily and Joyce, and saw two faces reflecting conflicting emotions – relief, shock, grief, excitement, confusion.
He held up his mask. “You’ll find masks like these in the overhead lockers,” he said. “Everyone without a suit needs one.”
He looked at their minuscule passenger compartment, now crammed with people. This would not be easy.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
It took longer than they hoped to get masks on everyone. The tightly packed passenger compartment made it difficult to move, and several people had started to come around, meaning the situation had to be explained.
Vasily opened the shuttle door and deployed the stairs, to find many hands waiting to help them out and take them home to Haven.
At last the way cleared and David and Elizabeth could exit the cockpit. Elizabeth went first and found Nathalie waiting for her at the foot of the stairs.
“Ah, ma biche, you are so brave!” She enveloped her in a hug, holding her close. Elizabeth’s sisters, Nicole, Chloé, Élise, and Zoé, were there too, and her brother Viktor.
Nathalie looked up over Elizabeth’s shoulder, smiling and crying at the same time, to see David walking down the stairs with the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Alone.
Her smile faded as a sickening realization sank in.
“Oh, maman!” Elizabeth sobbed against her shoulder, any pretense of adulthood abandoned.
“No,” Nathalie said, straightening up. She didn’t take her eyes from David. “Non! Non, non, non!”
Little Zoé looked up, eyes wide. “Maman? What’s wrong?”
Nathalie’s eyes willed David not to say it, but he shook his head, his eyes dull and his arms hanging at his sides.
“He saved us. John saved us all, Nathalie. He –”
“Non! Tais toi! Ne le dis pas! Don’t you say it!”
Nathalie’s eyes were fierce. David stepped forward and gathered her into his arms. She fought him at first, then let him hold her, stiff and unyielding in his embrace. He spoke in a low voice. “We have to be brave, for now. For the children.”
Joyce came then, still groggy, and hugged Nathalie, and then Heidi, Josh, and all the others. She gave a great, shuddering sigh and nodded to David.
“Come on,” he said, putting one arm around her and one around Elizabeth. “Let’s go home.”
John drifted, face down, drinking in the sight of his adopted world, letting his mind wander, memories drifting up from the depths of his past. He remembered his mother, his father, the beaches of his youth, his first love. He thought of Heidi and what might ha
ve been. And then he thought of Nathalie and his children, and felt content. All he had achieved, all of his loves, were as much as a man could hope for. It will be a good death. It won’t be in vain.
He drifted off to sleep, dreaming of warm sun and perfect breaks.
Time passed.
He woke, shivering, and realized he didn’t have long. If his heating had gone, he had only minutes left.
I wish I could have stayed asleep. But maybe it’s better this way, better to face it.
He felt his mind drift again, and might have fallen asleep once more had he not been shivering so hard.
And that’s when something grabbed his leg.
Startled, he yelped and banged his head against the inside of his helmet. He twisted, his heart rate spiking, trying to see who or what had him.
Then he relaxed.
I’m hallucinating. Nothing is up here, nothing but me.
But why is something trying to pull my damn leg off!
He tried to twist again, but he couldn’t move because of the rigid booster pack. Then the acceleration stopped and he started to turn over, and saw …
… saw the impossible.
John laughed. Once he started, he couldn’t stop. He laughed like a condemned man who had won a last-minute reprieve, a laugh that skirted the edge of hysteria.
He’d made his peace, but God hadn’t finished with him yet.
There, in front of him, floated a gigantic spaceship. A spaceship with the flags of many nations painted on its side and its name written in many languages.
The Hope had come to get him.
Evening fell on a day of triumph cut with sorrow.
All of Haven had gathered in Solar Park, but for a wake, not a celebration. No one wanted to be alone.
Only one person couldn’t be found: Kurt Thompson. Once more, he sat in the comms room, talking to his special friend, the starship Hope. Once more, his eyes widened when he saw the incoming message. Once more, he leapt to his feet and pumped his legs as he sprinted toward Solar Park as fast as he could.
He pulled up when he arrived, disconcerted by the sight of so many people.
He spotted David with the Coultas-Duplessis family. They painted a picture of despair.
Nathalie looked devastated.
He noticed Élise Duplessis standing near her mother and his heart skipped a beat. He’d known her all his life – they’d grown up together, played together, and hung out in the same group. Somehow, though, not long after his fourteenth birthday, he’d found himself looking at her through new eyes. Seeing her encouraged him to redouble his efforts.
“He’s alive! He’s alive!” he shouted as he rushed up to the little group.
They all spun around to face him as he came to a halt, chest heaving. “It’s John! He’s alive!”
Nathalie’s face ran the gamut of emotions, from grief to incredulity to hope to anger. “John, alive? How can he be?”
Kurt held out his phone. Nathalie took it from him, her eyes darting to Kurt, who nodded, smiling.
John’s face looked out at her from the phone’s little screen.
“Mon dieu,” she whispered, reaching out to touch his face, as if that could make him more real.
“It’s me, love,” John said. “I’m alive!”
Tears streamed down Nathalie’s face as everyone crowded around.
Elizabeth pushed to the front, her face turning white as she saw the impossible for herself.
“Dad,” she managed, her voice breaking. “I … I …”
John’s eyes softened. “It’s me, Lizzie. I’m really here.”
Elizabeth just shook her head, beyond words. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry and ended up not being able to do either.
“How is this possible?” Nathalie asked.
“I thought I was a goner, believe you me,” John said. “I’ve got young Kurt to thank for this. He asked the Hope to come pick me up.”
All eyes swiveled to Kurt, who blushed at the sudden attention.
“Kurt?” Nathalie repeated, looking at him in wonder.
“Yeah, Kurt. Apparently he and the Hope are friends. He asked her to come and get me, and here I am!” John replied, grinning broadly.
Like a storm change, Nathalie’s eyes narrowed as she shifted her attention from Kurt back to John. She sniffed and wiped the tears from her cheeks with quick motions, a frown developing on her beautiful face. “You wait until you get back down here, John Coultas! Have you any idea what you’ve put me through?”
John’s grin broadened even more. “I love you too, honey.”
Élise turned to Kurt, who stood there shuffling his feet. Her eyes shone. “You saved my Dad!”
Kurt blushed again, this time for a different reason. He nodded, unable to find any words.
Élise wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight. Hesitantly he returned her embrace – and nothing, nothing in his short life had ever felt so good.
The door rattled as it slid back, the sound echoing in the half-empty warehouse.
Carla blinked at the sudden influx of light and sat up on the rough bed she’d shaped from empty sacks.
The silhouette of a man filled the doorway.
“So,” she said. “You’re back.”
David’s footsteps echoed as he strode into the room. “No thanks to you.”
Carla raised her chin and narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”
David squatted down and looked her straight in the eyes. “We didn’t find four crew members aboard, we found ten.”
Carla’s eyes widened. “Ten?”
“Ten.”
“I had no idea. Where did you find them?”
“You never noticed the hatch on the far side of the stasis suite?”
Carla hesitated. “Edward forbade anyone to enter that room.” She looked up at David, her eyes darting away and then back. “I didn’t know.”
David looked at her long and hard, then stood up. “We don’t have the time to waste on keeping prisoners. There will be a hearing where you’ll be judged by your peers, but until then you’re free to go.”
Despite her determination to stay calm, Carla’s eyes widened. “I am?”
David walked toward the door, then stopped and turned back. “You’re on a good behavior bond. Break it, and you will be back here faster than you can snap your fingers.”
He turned to go again, then paused. “Oh, one more thing. We needed the house you lived in.” He didn’t say your house. “We needed it for the extra six people we rescued. We’ve moved you to the pavilion.”
Carla frowned.
“It seems no one wants to be in there after you splattered Edward’s brains all over the floor. We figured you wouldn’t mind.”
He turned and this time left, his footsteps echoing into the distance, leaving Carla alone with her racing thoughts.
The next day the rescued crews and their hosts swapped stories and learned about each other. The six crew of the Hope couldn’t get enough of Vasily, Joyce, Viktor, and Natalia. They still couldn’t quite believe they were really here.
Late afternoon found them at the park, down by the lake. For David and his crew, this gathering late in the day felt familiar, the sights and smells of home welcome after their grand adventure.
John joined in too, via his image on a data pad propped up on the table, alongside plates of tapas, and local wine, beer, or vodka to wash it down with.
David had a thought and turned to face the data pad. “So, what’ve you got for dinner tonight, John?” he asked, feigning innocence.
John scowled. “You bloody well know what it is.”
The others from the Hope’s crew laughed.
Veronika explained to the puzzled newcomers. “The dehydrated food on the Hope could be awful. One meal in particular we hated. When we came down to the surface, we took as much leftover food as we could, and of course left the worst behind.”
“Tell them, John!” Josh said. “Tell ’em what you’r
e having.”
John looked a little sour as he spat the words out. “Fettuccine bloody carbonara.” Then he grinned. “I can’t complain though, mate. Better this than the alternative.”
No one could disagree with that sentiment.
The secret crew of the Inspiration struggled to come to terms with their situation. They had no recollection of the journey at all. The last thing they remembered was their final medical check on Earth. They’d woken up crammed into an old shuttle in their underwear and experienced the most hair-raising landing of their lives, all while still only semi-conscious.
Then the culture shock of a new world, one with different gravity, sky color, and social conventions. No one meant to exclude them, but as the afternoon drifted into evening they found everyone seemed to know someone, and they only knew each other. Most people were by the lakeshore, while the Inspiration’s secret crew stayed a little apart, nearer the old pavilion.
One other person kept to the shadows. One other person didn’t belong. She had intuited she would not be welcome at tonight’s celebration, but now she saw an opportunity and came forward.
“Hi!” she said, approaching the tight little group of six with a bright smile. “You must be the secret crew I’ve heard about. We’re so glad we saved you! Allow me to introduce myself – I’m Carla Lewis.”
She took the hand of the tall handsome man she assumed must be their leader and squeezed it, smiling her sincerest smile.
He returned her handshake but looked wary. “Carla Lewis. Weren’t you …”
“Edward’s assistant? Yes, yes I was.”
He looked away. “Then you are no friend of mine,” he said, his tone bitter.
The smile slipped from Carla’s face. “I had nothing to do with your … situation,” she said. “I didn’t even know about you. Edward did it.”
He looked at her again. Carla returned his gaze, waiting.
At last he spoke again. “Franz van der Westhuizen.” He nodded to each of the others in turn. “Tatyana, Maxim, Michael, Samuel, and Clara.” He spread his arms. “The crew of the HSS Inspiration, at your service.”
The Seasoning Page 26
